alone）；　to　be　my　escort　on　the　journey？〃
  Allan　looked　at　the　little　assembly　of　travelers；　and　travelers'
  friends；　collected　on　the　platform；　near　the　booking…office　door。
  They　were　all　Thorpe　Ambrose　people。　He　was　probably　known　by
  sight；　and　Miss　Gwilt　was　probably　known　by　sight；　to　every　one
  of　them。　In　sheer　desperation；　hesitating　more　awkwardly　than
  ever；　he　produced　his　cigar　case。　〃I　should　be　delighted；〃　he
  said；　with　an　embarrassment　which　was　almost　an　insult　under　the
  circumstances。　〃But　II'm　what　the　people　who　get　sick　over　a
  cigar　call　a　slave　to　smoking。〃
  〃I　delight　in　smoking！〃　said　Miss　Gwilt；　with　undiminished
  vivacity　and　good　humor。　〃It's　one　of　the　privileges　of　the　men
  which　I　have　always　envied。　I'm　afraid；　Mr。　Armadale；　you　must
  think　I　am　forcing　myself　on　you。　It　certainly　looks　like　it。　The
  real　truth　is；　I　want　particularly　to　say　a　word　to　you　in
  private　about　Mr。　Midwinter。〃
  The　train　came　up　at　the　same　moment。　Setting　Midwinter　out　of
  the　question；　the　common　decencies　of　politeness　left　Allan　no
  alternative　but　to　submit。　After　having　been　the　cause　of　her
  leaving　her　situation　at　Major　Milroy's；　after　having　pointedly
  avoided　her　only　a　few　days　since　on　the　high…road；　to　have
  declined　going　to　London　in　the　same　carriage　with　Miss　Gwilt
  would　have　been　an　act　of　downright　brutality　which　it　was　simply
  impossible　to　commit。　〃Damn　her！〃　said　Allan；　internally；　as　he
  handed　his　traveling　companion　into　an　empty　carriage；
  officiously　placed　at　his　disposal；　before　all　the　people　at　the
  station；　by　the　guard。　〃You　shan't　be　disturbed；　sir；〃　the　man
  whispered；　confidentially；　with　a　smile　and　a　touch　of　his　hat。
  Allan　could　have　knocked　him　down　with　the　utmost　pleasure。
  〃Stop！〃　he　said；　from　the　window。　〃I　don't　want　the　carriage〃
  It　was　useless；　the　guard　was　out　of　hearing；　the　whistle　blew；
  and　the　train　started　for　London。
  The　select　assembly　of　travelers'　friends；　left　behind　on　the
  platform；　congregated　in　a　circle　on　the　spot；　with　the
  station…master　in　the　center。
  The　station…masterotherwise　Mr。　Mackwas　a　popular　character
  in　the　neighborhood。　He　possessed　two　social　qualifications　which
  invariably　impress　the　average　English　mindhe　was　an　old
  soldier；　and　he　was　a　man　of　few　words。　The　conclave　on　the
  platform　insisted　on　taking　his　opinion；　before　it　committed
  itself　positively　to　an　opinion　of　its　own。　A　brisk　fire　of
  remarks　exploded；　as　a　matter　of　course；　on　all　sides；　but
  everybody's　view　of　the　subject　ended　interrogatively；　in　a
  question　aimed　pointblank　at　the　station…master's　ears。
  〃She's　got　him；　hasn't　she？〃　〃She'll　come　back　'Mrs。　Armadale；'
  won't　she？〃　〃He'd　better　have　stuck　to　Miss　Milroy；　hadn't　he？〃
  〃Miss　Milroy　stuck　to　_him。_　She　paid　him　a　visit　at　the　great
  house；　didn't　she？〃　〃Nothing　of　the　sort；　it's　a　shame　to　take
  the　girl's　character　away。　She　was　caught　in　a　thunder…storm
  close　by；　he　was　obliged　to　give　her　shelter；　and　she's　never
  been　near　the　place　since。　Miss　Gwilt's　been　there；　if　you　like；
  with　no　thunderstorm　to　force　_her_　in；　and　Miss　Gwilt's　off　with
  him　to　London　in　a　carriage　all　to　themselves；　eh；　Mr。　Mack？〃
  〃Ah；　he's　a　soft　one；　that　Armadale！　with　all　his　money；　to　take
  up　with　a　red…haired　woman；　a　good　eight　or　nine　years　older　than
  he　is！　She's　thirty　if　she's　a　day。　That's　what　I　say；　Mr。　Mack。
  What　do　you　say？〃　〃Older　or　younger；　she'll　rule　the　roast　at
  Thorpe　Ambrose；　and　I　say；　for　the　sake　of　the　place；　and　for　the
  sake　of　trade；　let's　make　the　best　of　it；　and　Mr。　Mack；　as　a　man
  of　the　world；　sees　it　in　the　same　light　as　I　do；　don't　you；　sir？〃
  〃Gentlemen；〃　said　the　station…master；　with　his　abrupt　military
  accent；　and　his　impenetrable　military　manner；　〃she's　a　devilish
  fine　woman。　And　when　I　was　Mr。　Armadale's　age；　it's　my　opinion；
  if　her　fancy　had　laid　that　way；　she　might　have　married　Me。〃
  With　that　expression　of　opinion　the　station…master　wheeled　to　the
  right；　and　intrenched　himself　impregnably　in　the　stronghold　of
  his　own　office。
  The　citizens　of　Thorpe　Ambrose　looked　at　the　closed　door；　and
  gravely　shook　their　heads。　Mr。　Mack　had　disappointed　them。　No
  opinion　which　openly　recognizes　the　frailty　of　human　nature　is
  ever　a　popular　opinion　with　mankind。　〃It's　as　good　as　saying　that
  any　of　_us_　might　have　married　her　if　_we_　had　been　Mr。
  Armadale's　age！〃　Such　was　the　general　impression　on　the　minds　of
  the　conclave；　when　the　meeting　had　been　adjourned；　and　the
  members　were　leaving　the　station。
  The　last　of　the　party　to　go　was　a　slow　old　gentleman；　with　a
  habit　of　deliberately　looking　about　him。　Pausing　at　the　door；
  this　observant　person　stared　up　the　platform　and　down　the
  platform；　and　discovered　in　the　latter　direction；　standing　behind
  an　angle　of　the　wall；　an　elderly　man　in　black；　who　had　escaped
  the　notice　of　everybody　up　to　that　time。　〃Why；　bless　my　soul！〃
  said　the　old　gentleman；　advancing　inquisitively　by　a　step　at　a
  time；　〃it　can't　be　Mr。　Bashwood！〃
  It　_was_　Mr。　BashwoodMr。　Bashwood；　whose　constitutional
  curiosity　had　taken　him　privately　to　the　station；　bent　on　solving
  the　mystery　of　Allan's　sudden　journey　to　LondonMr。　Bashwood；
  who　had　seen　and　heard；　behind　his　angle　in　the　wall；　what
  everybody　else　had　seen　and　heard；　and　who　appeared　to　have　been
  impressed　by　it　in　no　ordinary　way。　He　stood　stiffly　against　the
  wall；　like　a　man　petrified；　with　one　hand　pressed　on　his　bare
  head；　and　the　other　holding　his　hathe　stood；　with　a　dull　flush
  on　his　face；　and　a　dull　stare　in　his　eyes；　looking　straight　into
  the　black　depths　of　the　tunnel　outside　the　station；　as　if　the
  train　to　London　had　disappeared　in　it　but　the　moment　before。
  〃Is　your　head　bad？〃　asked　the　old　gentleman。　〃Take　my　advice。　Go
  home　and　lie　down。〃
  Mr。　Bashwood　listened　mechanically；　with　his　usual　attention；　and
  answered　mechanically；　with　his　usual　politeness。
  〃Yes；　sir；〃　he　said；　in　a　low；　lost　tone；　like　a　man　between
  dreaming　and　waking；　〃I'll　go　home　and　lie　down。〃
  〃That's　right；〃　rejoined　the　old　gentleman；　making　for　the　door。
  〃And　take　a　pill；　Mr。　Bashwoodtake　a　pill。〃
  Five　minutes　later；　the　porter　charged　with　the　business　of
  locking　up　the　station　found　Mr。　Bashwood；　still　standing
  bare…headed　against　the　wall；　and　still　looking　straight　into　the
  black　depths　of　the　tunnel；　as　if　the　train　to　London　had
  disappeared　in　it　but　a　moment　since。
  〃Come；　sir！〃　said　the　porter；　〃I　must　lock　up。　Are　you　out　of
  sorts？　Anything　wrong　with　your　inside？　Try　a　drop　of
  gin…and…bitters。〃
  〃Yes；〃　said　Mr。　Bashwood；　answering　the　porter；　exactly　as　he　had
  answered　the　old　gentleman；　〃I'll　try　a　drop　of　gin…and…bitters。〃
  The　porter　took　him　by　the　arm；　and　led　him　out。　〃You'll　get　it
  there；〃　said　the　man；　pointing　confidentially　to　a　public…house；
  〃and　you'll　get　it　good。〃
  〃I　shall　get　it　there；〃　echoed　Mr。　Bashwood；　still　mechanically
  repeating　what　was　said　to　him；　〃and　I　shall　get　it　good。〃
  His　will　seemed　to　be　paralyzed；　his　actions　depended　absolutely
  on　what　other　people　told　him　to　do。　He　took　a　few　steps　in　the
  direction　of　the　public…house；　hesitated；　staggered；　and　caught
  at　the　pillar　of　one　of　the　station　lamps　near　him。
  The　porter　followed；　and　took　him　by　the　arm　once　more。
  〃Why；　you've　been　drinking　already！〃　exclaimed　the　man；　with　a
  suddenly　quickened　interest　in　Mr。　Bashwood's　case。　〃What　was　it？
  Beer？〃
  Mr。　Bashwood；　in　his　low；　lost　tones；　echoed　the　last　word。
  It　was　close　on　the　porter's　dinner…time。　But；　when　the　lower
  orders　of　the　English　people　believe　they　have　discovered　an
  intoxicated　man；　their　sympathy　with　him　is　boundless。　The　porter
  let　his　dinner　take　i　ts　chance；　and　carefully　assisted　Mr。
  Bashwood　to　reach　the　public…house。　〃Gin…and…bitters　will　put　you
  on　your　legs　again；〃　whispered　this　Samaritan　setter…right　of　the
  alcoholic　disasters　of　mankind。
  If　Mr。　Bashwood　had　really　been　intoxicated；　the　effect　of　the
  porter's　remedy　would　have　been　marvelous　indeed。　Almost　as　soon
  as　the　glass　was　emptied；　the　stimulant　did　its　work。　The
  long…weakened　nervous　system　of　the　deputy…steward；　prostrated
  for　the　moment　by　the　shock　that　had　fallen　on　it；　rallied　again
  like　a　weary　horse　under　the　spur。　The　dull　flush　on　his　cheeks；
  the　dull　stare　in　his　eyes；　disappeared　simultaneously。　After　a
  momentary　effort；　he　recovered　memory　enough　of　what　had　passed
  to　thank　the　porter；　and　to　ask　whether　he　would　take　something
  himself。　The　worthy　creature　instantly　accepted　a　dose　of　his　own
  remedyin　the　capacity　of　a　preventiveand　went　home　to　dinner
  as　only　those　men　can　go　home　who　are　physically　warmed　by
  gin…and…bitters　and　morally　elevated　by　the　performance　of　a　good
  action。
  Still　strangely　abstracted　（but　conscious　now　of　the　way　by　which
  he　went）；　Mr。　Bashwood　left　the　public…house　a　few　minutes　later；
  in　his　turn。　He　walked　on　mechanically；　in　his　dreary　black
  garments；　moving　like　a　blot　on　the　white　surface　of　the
  sun…brightened　road；　as　Midwinter　had　seen　him　move　in　the　early
  days　at　Thorpe　Ambrose；　when　they　had　first　met。　Arrived　at　the
  point　where　he　had　to　choose　between　the　way　that　led　into　the
  town　and　the　way　that　led　to　the　great　house；　he　stopped；