“She was coming. I can’t think what is delaying her.”

David hurried on to the carriage. “Get in, mother, I’ll take her place. Get in, get in. We must be off.”

“David, are you out of your head?”

“Yes, mother. Drive on, drive on. I must catch the first train for Liverpool — I may catch it. Put the horses through, John. Make them sweat,” he said, leaning out of the carriage window.

“Explain yourself, David. Are you in trouble?”

“Yes, mother. Wait a little.”

She looked at her son and saw his mouth set, his eyes stern and anguished, and she placed her hand gently on his as they were being whirled away.