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Archibald
Craven
she
began
to
cease
to
be
sorry
and
to
think
he
was
unpleasant
enough
to
deserve
all
that
had
happened
to
him
.
And
she
turned
her
face
toward
the
streaming
panes
of
the
window
of
the
railway
carriage
and
gazed
out
at
the
gray
rain
-
storm
which
looked
as
if
it
would
go
on
forever
and
ever
.
She
watched
it
so
long
and
steadily
that
the
grayness
grew
heavier
and
heavier
before
her
eyes
and
she
fell
asleep
.
She
slept
a
long
time
,
and
when
she
awakened
Mrs
.
Medlock
had
bought
a
lunchbasket
at
one
of
the
stations
and
they
had
some
chicken
and
cold
beef
and
bread
and
butter
and
some
hot
tea
.
The
rain
seemed
to
be
streaming
down
more
heavily
than
ever
and
everybody
in
the
station
wore
wet
and
glistening
waterproofs
.
The
guard
lighted
the
lamps
in
the
carriage
,
and
Mrs
.
Medlock
cheered
up
very
much
over
her
tea
and
chicken
and
beef
.
She
ate
a
great
deal
and
afterward
fell
asleep
herself
,
and
Mary
sat
and
stared
at
her
and
watched
her
fine
bonnet
slip
on
one
side
until
she
herself
fell
asleep
once
more
in
the
corner
of
the
carriage
,
lulled
by
the
splashing
of
the
rain
against
the
windows
.
It
was
quite
dark
when
she
awakened
again
.
The
train
had
stopped
at
a
station
and
Mrs
.
Medlock
was
shaking
her
.
“
You
have
had
a
sleep
!
”
she
said
.
“
It
’
s
time
to
open
your
eyes
!
We
’
re
at
Thwaite
Station
and
we
’
ve
got
a
long
drive
before
us
.
”
Mary
stood
up
and
tried
to
keep
her
eyes
open
while
Mrs
.
Medlock
collected
her
parcels
.
The
little
girl
did
not
offer
to
help
her
,
because
in
India
native
servants
always
picked
up
or
carried
things
and
it
seemed
quite
proper
that
other
people
should
wait
on
one
.
The
station
was
a
small
one
and
nobody
but
themselves
seemed
to
be
getting
out
of
the
train
.
The
station
-
master
spoke
to
Mrs
.
Medlock
in
a
rough
,
good
-
natured
way
,
pronouncing
his
words
in
a
queer
broad
fashion
which
Mary
found
out
afterward
was
Yorkshire
.
“
I
see
tha
’
s
got
back
,
”
he
said
.
“
An
’
tha
’
s
browt
th
’
young
’
un
with
thee
.
”
“
Aye
,
that
’
s
her
,
”
answered
Mrs
.
Medlock
,
speaking
with
a
Yorkshire
accent
herself
and
jerking
her
head
over
her
shoulder
toward
Mary
.
“
How
’
s
thy
Missus
?
”
“
Well
enow
.
Th
’
carriage
is
waitin
’
outside
for
thee
.
”
