BERTHA’SreliefwasunmistakablewhenshelandedonEnglishsoilatlastshewasnearEdward,andshehadbeenextremelysea-sick.ThoughitwaslessthanthirtymilesfromDovertoBlackstablethecommunicationsweresobadthatitwasnecessarytowaitforhoursattheport,ortaketheboat-traintoLondonandthencomesixtymilesdownagain.Berthawasexasperatedatthedelay,forgettingthatshewasnow(thankHeaven!)inafreecountry,wheretherailwayswerenotrunfortheconvenienceofpassengers,butthepassengersnecessaryevilstocreatedividendsforanill-managedcompany.Bertha’simpatiencewassogreatthatshefeltitimpossibletowaitatDovershepreferredtogotheextrahundredmilesandsaveherselftenminutesratherthanspendtheafternooninthedrearywaiting-room,orwanderingaboutthetown.ThetrainseemedtocrawlandherrestlessnessbecamequitepainfulassherecognizedtheKentishcountry,thefatmeadowswithtrimhedges,theportlytrees,andthegeneralairofprosperity.
Bertha’sthoughtswerefullofEdward,andhewasthewholecauseofherimpatience.Shehadhoped,againstherknowledgeofhim,thathewouldmeetheratDover,andithadbeenadisappointmentnottoseehim.ThenshethoughthemighthavecometoLondon,thoughnotexplainingtoherselfhowhecouldpossiblyhavedivinedthatshewouldbethere.HerheartbeatabsurdlywhenshesawabackwhichmighthavebeenEdward’s.Stilllater,shecomfortedherselfwiththeideathathewouldcertainlybeatFaversley,whichwasthenextstationtoBlackstable.Whentheyreachedthatplacesheputherheadoutofwindow,lookingalongtheplatform—buthewasnowhere.
“Hemighthavecomeasfarthis,”shethought.
Now,thetrainsteamingon,sherecognisedthecountrymoreprecisely,thedesolatemarshandthesea—thelineranalmostatthewater’sedgethetidewasout,leavingabroadexpanseofshiningmud,overwhichtheseagullsflew,screeching.Thenthehouseswerefamiliar,cottagesbeatenbywindandweather,theJollySailor,whereintheolddaysmanyasmuggledkegofbrandyhadbeenhiddenonitswaytoth