a hotel or boarding-house within ten miles," replied Thorndyke, stalking angrily back into the Pullman.
The train stopped at Roseboro' on being flagged, and Thorndyke had one of the most delicious moments of his life when he stepped into a smart trap driven by Constance herself, and left Senator Mulligan, the man of millions and of pies, stranded at the station, which consisted of the passenger shed and the station-master's house, which had four rooms, in which the station-master with his wife and eleven children lived in much dirt and comfort.
Constance, sitting in the trap, looking remarkably handsome in her summer costume and large black hat, felt a thrill of sympathy for the unfortunate Mulligan, standing in the little shed of a station with his luggage piled around him. Not so Thorndyke, who derived acute pleasure from Mulligan's miserable situation.
"I hope," said Constance to the forlorn Senator, "that you will come over to see me some afternoon while you are at Roseboro'. Malvern is only six miles away."
