Pamela was sitting in the corner opposite her, and Dan was in the corner at the other end of her seat.  Lady Kitson and Lettice were at first too cross and too much shaken to notice any one; but presently, having recovered and arranged their packages, and settled down in their seats, they glanced about the compartment, and, with a look of not very pleased surprise, recognized their companions.

“Oh, how do you do, Dan?” said Lady Kitson, and smiled quite affably on him, but to Kitty she vouchsafed only the merest acknowledgment.

Lettice blushed hotly when she saw Kitty, and gave her one of her broad, meaning smiles.

“How do you do?” said Kitty very stiffly, and with no shadow of a smile.

“How is your poor little cousin, Dan?” said Lady Kitson presently.  “I hope she is growing strong again after her two serious illnesses?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Dan.  “She has gone away for change of air.”

“Oh, indeed.  I am glad she is able to.  It was so alarming her being so ill.  Oh, I heard about your shocking behaviour in leaving her behind to walk home by herself, on such a night too, and in such a wild spot.”

“I am afraid you haven’t heard the right story, Lady Kitson,” said Dan gravely, but with a flash of his eye.

Lady Kitson smiled a most aggravating little smile.  “Oh, I think so,” she said meaningly.  Then, “You are not all going away with Anna, I hope,” she remarked severely.  “I am sure the poor child must require perfect peace and great care.”

“No, Aunt Pike has gone with her.  We are going home, and Kitty’s friend is coming to stay with us,” and Dan looked towards Pamela.  “May I introduce Miss Pamela Peters—­Lady Kitson, Miss Kitson,” said Dan very formally, and growing very red.

Pamela smiled and bowed very prettily to Lady Kitson.  Lady Kitson stared at Pamela, but gave her only the vaguest of acknowledgments.  Lettice nodded as though her neck were loose at the joint.

“You don’t mean to say that while Mrs. Pike is away your poor father is going to have you all on his hands, and a stranger as well?  Poor Dr. Trenire.  I really think it is too much for him, he looks so ill and worn already.  He really needs a holiday more than do any of you.”

“Father looks ill!” gasped Kitty.  It was the first hint she had had of any such thing, and a sudden cold fear filled her heart.  She forgot her dislike of Lady Kitson and Lettice, and the wrong they had done her.  “Is father really ill, Lady Kitson?” she asked anxiously, leaning towards her.  “He has never mentioned it to me, nor has Aunt Pike.”

“He is too good and unselfish to complain,” said Lady Kitson coldly.  “You should use your own eyes, and not wait for him to tell you he is ill.  He has not actually told me that he is, but I can see that he looks overworked and unwell, and certainly not fit to battle with a houseful of noisy, restless boys and girls.”