Lucian the dreamer

pparent solitude, and from its one long platfo

ine was a single one, served by a train which made three out-and-home journeys a day between the market-town of Oakborough and the village of Normanford, stopping on its way at seven intermediate stations, of which Wellsby was the penultimate one. These wayside stations sometimes witnessed arrivals and departures, but there were many occasions on which the train neither took up passengers nor set them down-it was only a considerable traffic in agricultural produce, the extra business o

ard's van), as it made its last down journey. There were no passengers to go forward towards Normanford, and the porter, according to custom, went out to the end of the platform as the train came into view, and held up his arms as a signal to the drive

ook at the station-master. 'I wonder who it is-I've only booked one up ticke

sh grinding of its wheels threw a greeting to the engine-driver, which he had already given four times that day and would give again as the train went back tw

'I wondered who was getting out-it's not o

a long breath of air as if the scent of the woods and fields did him good, and then turned to the open door of the carriage, within which stood a boy leisurely attiring himself in an overcoat.

about him with a deliberate and critical expression. His glance ran over the station, the creeping plants on the station-master's house, the station-ma

The porter had already brought out a portmanteau and a trunk; he and the guard were now stru

d. 'You might be carrying all the treasure o

ly. 'They are heavy. Be careful

t his word would rank as law. He stood by, anxious of eye and keenly observant, while the men lowered the packing-

n her a single bump. Might ha' been the

ket, drew forth a shilling, and with a barely perceptible glance at the guard, dropped it in his hand. The man stared, smiled, pocketed the g

p to the boy's side and

ching his chin. 'It's too big and too heavy. We

ave it?' asked the boy

er,' said the porter. 'It'll be all right

p. He issued strict mandates to the porter as to his safe-keeping of the packing-case, presented him also with a s

runk and portmanteau on a barrow and bring them down in a while? No

the porter. 'I'll bring 'em

e station-master, and leading the way to the gate. 'Eh, but it's go

had been April showers during the afternoon, and the air was sweet and co

ed. 'I smell it-

ne; 'as beautiful as-as-well, as

tenance composed itself and became equally grave and somewhat solicitous. He looked out of his eye-corners at the slim figure walking at his side, and wondered what other folk would think of his companion. 'A nice, smart-looking boy,

aturally quick in action and in perception. His face, which Mr. Pepperdine had studied a good deal during the past week, was of a type which is more often met with in Italy than in England. The forehead was broad and high, and crowned by a mass of thick, blue-black hair that clustered and waved all over the head, and curled into rings at the temples; the brows were straight, dark, and full; the nose and mouth delicately but strongly c

mirrors. The boy was a dandy in miniature, and it filled Mr. Pepperdine with a vast amusement to find him so. He chuckled inwardly, and was secretly proud of a youngster who, as he had recently discovered, could walk into a fashionable tailor's and order exactly what he wanted with an evident determination to get it. But Mr. Pepperdine himself was a rustic dandy. Because of the necessities of a recent occasion he was at that moment clad in sober black-his Sunday-and-State-Occasion's suit-but at home he p

of a grey hair. In his sable garments and his high hat-bought a week before in London itself, and of the latest fashionable shape-he looked very distinguished, and no one could have taken him for less than a churchwarden and a large ratepayer. His air of distinction was further improved by the fact{1

ng down a long vista of the woods. Mr. Pepperdine turned in th

ould see the bluebells! And as for primroses-well, they could stock all Covent Garden market in London town with 'em, and have enough for next day into the bargain, so they could. Very pretty is t

further end of which, shaded by a belt of tall elms, stood a many-gabled farmhouse, with a flower-garden before its front door and an orchard at its side. The farm-buildings rose a little distance in rear of the house; beyond them was the stackyard, still crowded with wheat

enter. 'The abode of Mr. and Mrs. Trippett, very particular friends of mine. I always leave my trap here when I

e. He was staring about him when the door opened, and revealed a jolly-faced, red-cheeked man with sandy whiskers and

the missis put the kettle on to boil up that minute. Come in, Simpson-

oured ribbons in a nodding cap that crowned a he

,' said she. 'And this'll be your little nevvy. Come in, lo

ned kitchen. He looked frankly at the farmer and his wife, and the woman, noting his

traight into the parlour and sit you down-the tea'

t's memory, at the sight of his eyes,

Lucian,' h

him reply to her question. She sighed,{15} and with a sudden im

ing, it's cold enough for fires at night. Now I'll be back in a minute, and your uncle and the master'll

alone, took off his overcoat and gloves, and laid them aside with his hat; then he put hi