CHAPTER XVIII SOMERVILLE TOWERS

The long journey from the south of France to the north of England, with its solitary break of a night spent in London, was over at last, and an excitable rough-haired terrier and a tall young man in tweeds were the first things that greeted Shirley’s eager glance as the train, which had been thundering its way northwards for hours, finally drew up at the small wayside station of Somers’ Halt. Almost before it came actually to a standstill, she had opened the carriage door and sprung to the ground, precipitating her…