In her new, glad sense of
freedom, she had quite forgotten that the hour had long since
arrived when her flight must most certainly be discovered, and
that there were, after all, still only six miles of road
between her and her old life; and it was with quite a newly
awakened dread that even now unfriendly eyes might be watching
her from some one of the carriage-windows, that she jumped
hastily into the nearest compartment she could find. It was
not empty, however, for the Countess, who had preceded her
across the bridge had already taken her place, and was
arranging her flounces in one corner. She looked up, astounded
at Madelon's somewhat precipitate entrance; and as the train
moved off, she treated her small companion to a most
unceremonious stare, which took in every detail of her
personal appearance.
"Are you travelling alone?" she asked, at length, abruptly.
"Yes, madame," said Madelon, getting rather red. She had
resented the stare, and did not want to be talked to; her one
idea now was to get to Spa unnoticed. But she had ill-chosen
her travelling companion--the Countess was a lady whose
impertinent curiosity was rarely baffled.
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