"Oh, tell me about her," said Esther, who had been thinking all the while of Mrs. Barfield and of Miss Mary. "Tell me, there's nothing the matter with Miss Mary?"
"Yes, there is: she can't live no more in England; she has to go to winter, I think it is, in Algeria."
At that moment the train screeched along the rails, and vibrating under the force of the brakes, it passed out of the tunnel into Blackfriars.
"We shall just be able to catch the ten minutes past four to Peckham," she said, and they ran up the high steps. William strode along so fast that Esther was obliged to cry out, "There's no use, William; train or no train, I can't walk at that rate."
There was just time for them to get their tickets at Ludgate Hill. They were in a carriage by themselves, and he proposed to draw up the windows so that they might be able to talk more easily. He was interested in the ill-luck that had attended certain horses, and Esther wanted to hear about Mrs. Barfield.
"You seem to be very fond of her; what did she do for you?"
"Everything--that was after you went away. She was kind."
"So they spends the summer at Woodview and goes to foreign parts for the winter?"
"Yes, that's it. Most of the estate was sold; but Mrs. Barfield, the Saint--you remember we used to call her the Saint--well, she has her fortune, about five hundred a year, and they just manage to live there in a sort of hole-and-corner sort of way. They can't afford to keep a trap, and towards the end of October they go off and don't return till the beginning of May. Woodview ain't what it was. You remember the stables they were putting up when Silver Braid won the two cups? Well, they are just as when you last saw them--rafters and walls."
"Racing don't seem to bring no luck to any one. It ain't my affair, but if I was you I'd give it up and get to some honest work."
"Racing has been a good friend to me. I don't know where I should be without it to-day."
"So all the servants have left Woodview? I wonder what has become of them."
"You remember my mother, the cook? She died a couple of years ago."
"She was an old woman. You remember John Randal, the butler? He's in a situation in Cumberland Place, near the Marble Arch. He sometimes comes round and has a glass in the 'King's Head.' Sarah Tucker--she's in a situation somewhere in town. I don't know what has become of Margaret Gale."