This taunt about her size did rouse Jean.
"If you've _paid_ for your ticket you probably know," she said, in her best English, and extremely indignant.
This answer completely extinguished all wish for conversation on the part of her opposite neighbour, but she still fidgeted about, trying first one seat and then another, and, sitting down beside Jean, she fumbled about and pressed against her, altogether making herself most objectionable.
The journey came to an end; the ticket-collector came to the door and Jean put her hand in her pocket--her purse was safe, luckily, in the front of her dress--the ticket was gone! Greatly to her surprise the young woman immediately produced one.
Jean hunted in vain, her ticket was nowhere to be found, and her dismay was great. She had a confused notion that she was in some way breaking the law, and, though outwardly she kept calm, she was in a most fearful state really, and she did not know what to do.
The guard fortunately came up to see what the stoppage was, and was accompanied by a policeman.
Before Jean could answer, the policeman stretched out his hand and touched the young woman, who had been vainly trying to get out. She turned pale--through what Jean now saw was paint.
"You are wanted," and, turning to Jean, he said, "has she taken anything of yours, ma'am?"
Looking at the ticket the guard laughed and answered,
"She has taken your ticket, old lady. '_From Renton to London._' She only got in an hour ago."
Poor Jean! all her life long she will believe in policemen from henceforward. Indeed, when she went from St. Pancras to the station for Wandsworth she refused to pay her cab till the policeman standing near told her what the fare was, amusing the bystanders not a little by her determined attitude and the suspicious look she gave the cabman.
When she reached Grace, her fatigue, her adventures, everything gave way to compassion. For Grace was very ill, and needed good nursing and care, and, to poor Jean's eyes, the lodging and all belonging to it was not fit for any Christian, certainly not for a Scotchwoman.
She wondered a good deal that Margaret never came near her sister, and made up her mind to go and look her up: Mrs. Dorriman had charged her to be a mother to both bairns, and she fully intended keeping her promise.