There were no bones broken; she was not seriously hurt; but one has to
try for oneself the experiment of running at full tilt, and while so
doing to pitch forward at full length on the ground, to realise how
extremely disagreeable and disconcerting it can be. Darsie dragged
herself slowly to a sitting position, and sat dazed and stupefied, a
forlorn, dust-encrusted figure, with hat tilted rakishly on one side,
and the palm of her right hand scratched to bleeding where it had
dragged along the stony ground. She blinked and stared, and
mechanically brushed at her blackened skirts, but it was several moments
before remembrance of her position returned to her brain, and with it
the realisation of the consequences of delay. She scrambled to her
feet, ran forward for a few paces, and stopped short with a sharp groan
of pain. She had bruised her knees as well as her hand, and the rapid
movement was quite startlingly painful; she fell into a limp, straining
her head upwards to peep over the hedgerow at the road beyond. And
then, clear and distinct after the interval of silence, came another
sharp whistle, another laborious puff, puff, puff.
The train was leaving the station, and she was left behind!
Darsie stopped short, and leaned against the hedge. There was no longer
any need to hurry. Either her absence had been discovered or it had
not, and a few minutes' time would settle that question once for all.
It soothed her to pretend that there was a chance that she might find
some one waiting her arrival on the platform, but at the bottom of her
heart she had little hope of such a possibility. As members of a large
family whose parents were not rich enough to pay for the modern plethora
of nurses and governesses, the Garnetts and Vernons had been brought up
to be independent, and to fend for themselves, hence the two mothers
would not be so anxious to count the number of their brood, to see that
each member was safe and sound, as would have been the parents of
smaller, more indulged families.
There would be a rush for tickets, a hurried glance around on emerging
from the office, the signal of waving hands, and bobbing heads from half
a dozen windows, a quick leap into the nearest seats, and off they would
all steam, panting and puffing, congratulating themselves on their
escape.
No, Darsie told herself, it was stupid to pretend; certainly, quite
certainly she was left behind; nevertheless, when two or three minutes
later she reached the top of the railway bridge and peered over the
stone wall, it was with quite a big pang of dismay that she beheld the
empty platform. Not a soul! Not a single soul except a cross-looking
porter sitting astride a barrow, with his hands thrust into his trousers
pockets.
Anything less promising in the shape of a forlorn hope it would be
difficult to imagine, but the circumstances offered no alternative.
Darsie took her courage in both hands and marched boldly towards him.
"Please will you tell me the time of the next train from town?"
The porter rolled his eye sideways, surveyed her up and down, formed an
evidently poor opinion, and without a change of position muttered a curt
reply--
"Ten-thirty."
"Ten-thirty!" Dismay at the lateness of the hour struggled with wounded
pride at the man's lack of respect. Half-past ten before any one could
come to the rescue; three long hours of chill and darkness, with no one
to speak to, and nowhere to go! Darsie threw the thought aside with the
impetuous incredulity of youth.
"When's the next train to town?"
"Nine-ten."
That was better! Nine-ten. If she could manage to travel by that train
she would arrive at the terminus in abundance of time to prevent any one
starting by the next stopping train. It was all easy--perfectly easy,
except for the want of a miserable eightpence, but, alas! for the moment
eightpence seemed as inaccessible as eighty pounds. Darsie bent a
scrutinising glance upon the porter's downcast face. "He looks about as
disagreeable as he can be, but he's a human creature; he must have
_some_ heart! Perhaps he's in trouble, too, and it's soured his
disposition. It would mine! I just _hate_ it when things go wrong. I
don't in the least see why I shouldn't have a ticket on account! I'll
see what I can do."