But
perhaps you'll be back before winter comes round again?"
"I don't know when I shall be back," was all Julia could find to say.
The idea of being missed like this was new and strange to her; the
Polkingtons' feelings were so much guided by what was advisable, or
expedient, that there was not usually much room for simple emotions.
She felt somehow grateful to Johnny for caring a little that she was
going, though at the same time she was unpleasantly convinced that she
did not deserve it.
"It won't be at all the same at No. 27," Mr. Gillat was saying. "Your
mother--she's a wonderful woman, a wonderful woman, and Miss Violet's
a fine girl, so's the other, handsome both of them; but they're in
the drawing-room, you know, and you--you used to come down-stairs."
It did not sound very explicit, but Julia understood what he meant.
Just then the train stopped at a station, and other passengers got in,
so they had little more talk.
In time they reached Mark Lane, from whence it is no great walk to the
Tower Stairs. There is a cheap way of going to Holland from there for
those who do not mind spending twenty-four hours on the journey; Julia
did not mind. When she and Johnny Gillat arrived at the Tower Stairs
they saw the steamer lying in the river, a small Dutch boat, still
taking in cargo from loaded lighters alongside.
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