* * *

In the dim cavern of Paddington Station the boat-train snorted impatiently, varying the process with an occasional sharp shriek.  The hands of the station clock pointed to ten minutes to six.  The platform was a confused mass of travellers, porters, baggage, trucks, boys with buns and fruits, boys with magazines, friends, relatives, and Bayliss the butler, standing like a faithful watchdog beside a large suitcase.  To the human surf that broke and swirled about him he paid no attention.  He was looking for the young master.

Jimmy clove the crowd like a one-man flying-wedge.  Two fruit and bun boys who impeded his passage drifted away like leaves on an Autumn gale.

“Good man!” He possessed himself of the suitcase.  “I was afraid you might not be able to get here.”

“The mistress is dining out, Mr. James.  I was able to leave the house.”

“Have you packed everything I shall want?”

“Within the scope of a suitcase, yes, sir.”

“Splendid!  Oh, by the way, give this letter to my father, will you?”

“Very good, sir.”

“I’m glad you were able to manage.  I thought your voice sounded doubtful over the phone.”

“I was a good deal taken aback, Mr. James.  Your decision to leave was so extremely sudden.”

“So was Columbus’.  You know about him?  He saw an egg standing on its head and whizzed off like a jack-rabbit.”

“If you will pardon the liberty, Mr. James, is it not a little rash—?”

“Don’t take the joy out of life, Bayliss.  I may be a chump, but try to forget it.  Use your willpower.”

“Good evening, Mr. Bayliss,” said a voice behind them.  They both turned.  The butler was gazing rather coyly at a vision in a grey tailor-made suit.

“Good evening, miss,” he said doubtfully.

Ann looked at him in astonishment, then broke into a smile.

“How stupid of me!  I meant this Mr. Bayliss.  Your son!  We met at the steamship offices.  And before that he saved my life.  So we are old friends.”

Bayliss, gaping perplexedly and feeling unequal to the intellectual pressure of the conversation, was surprised further to perceive a warning scowl on the face of his Mr. James.  Jimmy had not foreseen this thing, but he had a quick mind and was equal to it.

“How are you, Miss Chester?  My father has come down to see me off.  This is Miss Chester, dad.”

A British butler is not easily robbed of his poise, but Bayliss was frankly unequal to the sudden demand on his presence of mind.  He lowered his jaw an inch or two, but spoke no word.

“Dad’s a little upset at my going,” whispered Jimmy confidentially.  “He’s not quite himself.”

Ann was a girl possessed not only of ready tact but of a kind heart.  She had summed up Mr. Bayliss at a glance.  Every line of him proclaimed him a respectable upper servant.  No girl on earth could have been freer than she of snobbish prejudice, but she could not check a slight thrill of surprise and disappointment at the discovery of Jimmy’s humble origin.  She understood everything, and there were tears in her eyes as she turned away to avoid intruding on the last moments of the parting of father and son.