“Half a sovereign.”

“Two-fifty.  Gee!  That’s the nearest thing to New York I’ve struck yet.  And the railway tickets—­ first-class, of course?”

“Yes.”

The cab stopped.  Theydon sprang out and raced to the telegraph office, where, as he anticipated, there was a slight delay.  Handyside awaited him at the correct barrier, and together they walked down a long platform, Theydon peering into every carriage, though convinced that Evelyn Forbes would not travel other than first class.  Thus, not being a detective, but only a very anxious and perplexed young man, he had eyes only for such ladies as were already seated in the train, and failed to note the immediate interest his appearance aroused in a man who occupied a window seat, and who was watching unobtrusively every one who passed.  Oddly enough, after the first wondering glance, this observer was more closely taken up with Handyside.  It was as though he said to himself: 

“Theydon I know, but who in the world is his companion, and why are they traveling by an Eastbourne express—­ today of all days?”

The train was well filled; there were only a few seconds to spare when Theydon came across Evelyn Forbes in a compartment which held two other passengers—­ a lady and a gentleman.

Recognition was mutual, and Theydon flattered himself that he betrayed just the right amount of pleasurable astonishment.

“Miss Forbes!” he cried, raising his hat.  “Well, of all the unexpected meetings!  Don’t say you are going to Eastbourne!”

“But I am,” she said, and, though she smiled, her eyes were heavy with unshed tears.  She was deeply attached to her mother, and the thought that the loved one was too ill even to communicate with her by telephone was distressing beyond measure.

“Just imagine that!” went on Theydon, determined to rush his fences and travel with her unless openly forbidden.  “I’m taking an American friend there for the afternoon.  May we come in your carriage?  Is there room for two?”

Now, although Evelyn Forbes had been attracted to Theydon during their vivacious conversation overnight, she would vastly have preferred the comparative solitude of a journey with strangers.

Still, she could hardly refuse such a request, and common sense told her that a pleasant chat with a man who could talk as well as Theydon offered a better means of whiling away two and a half hours than brooding over the nature and extent of her mother’s unknown illness.

“There’s plenty of room,” she said.

Without further ado, Theydon entered and Handyside followed.  The compartment held six seats, while a door led to a side corridor running the length of the coach.  The two remaining occupants were worthy Britons who neither invited nor received any special attention.

Mr. Handyside was introduced, and promptly said the right thing.

“I guess I knew what I was doing when I forced Mr. Theydon to take me out of London today,” he said, with a smile which left the girl in no doubt as to the nature of the implied compliment.