handkerchiefs, without at all minding whether the handkerchiefs were clean or not, to the 9.15.
"Take our love to Father!" cried Bobbie. And the others, too, shouted:—
"Take our love to Father!"
The old gentleman waved from his first-class carriage window. Quite violently he waved. And there was nothing odd in that, for he always had waved. But what was really remarkable was that from every window handkerchiefs fluttered, newspapers signalled, hands waved wildly. The train swept by with a rustle and roar, the little pebbles jumped and danced under it as it passed, and the children were left looking at each other.
"Well!" said Peter.
"Well!" said Bobbie.
"Well" said Phyllis.
"Whatever on earth does that mean?" asked Peter, but he did not expect any answer.
"I don't know," said Bobbie. "Perhaps the old gentleman told the people at his station to look out for us and wave. He knew we should like it!"
Now, curiously enough, this was just what had happened. The old gentleman, who was very well known and respected at his particular
