I think I shall write a book about them some day.
"Have you felt the fascination of the trains? My favourite seat here is
a lovely spot just above where they pass. I can look down on them, and
into them. The line winds, rather, through meadows and between banks,
where wild flowers grow; and under an ivied bridge or two, and by some
woods. And the trains rush past--some slow, some fast; and now and then
comes one that is just a flash and roar, and I cling to the railing for
a moment till it passes, and quiver with excitement, feeling as if I
must be swept away. I look at the carriage windows, too, trying to
catch a glimpse of the people, and I always hope to see a face I know.
In that lies all the charm.
"I seem to be expected in town, and some Scotch friends have asked me
to pay them a visit _en route_. I should like to go that way above
everything; one would see so much more of the country! But I daren't go
to London while the Bishop is there. He is making a dead set at me
again (confirmation this time), and I am afraid if he heard of my
arrival he would do something rash--dance down the Row in his gaiters,
perhaps--which might excite comment even if people knew what he was
after.
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