Hester felt wildly exhilarated, and she strode along the platform towards the stairs and the exit with most unladylike haste. A large woman in a stiff black dress and poke bonnet looked at her with disapproval and remarked ring-ingly to the man next to her that she did not know what young people were coming to these days. No one had any sense of what was proper anymore. Manners were quite shocking, and everyone was a deal too free with their opinions, whether they had any right to them or not. As for young women, they had every kind of unsuitable idea in their heads that one might imagine.

“Aye, m’dear,” the man said absently, continuing to look for a porter to carry their very considerable baggage. “Aye, I’m sure you’re right,” he added as she appeared to be about to continue.

“Really, Alexander, I sometimes think you are not listening to me at all,” the woman said testily.

“Oh, I am, m’dear, I am,” he answered, turning his back on her and waving to a porter.

Hester smiled to herself and made her way up the steps to the exit, and after handing in her ticket, went out onto the street. It took her only a few moments to find the carriage which had come to meet her; the driver was the only one looking from person to person, but hesitating when he saw a young woman in a plain gray costume and carrying a single valise. Hester passed her and addressed the man.

“Excuse me, are you from Mrs. Mclvor?” she inquired.

“Aye, miss, I am that. Would you be Miss Latterly, just come up from London to be with the mistress?”

“Yes I am.”

“Well then, you’ll be ready to come and sit down to a decent breakfast, I daresay. I don’t suppose they serve anything on those trains, but we can do better, and that’s a fact. Here, I’ll take your bag for you.”