The train was fixed, but not the day. Then mother
wrote to Aunt Emma, giving her careful instructions about the day
and the hour, and about luggage and cabs and things, and gave the
letter to Robert to post. But the hounds happened to meet near
Rufus Stone that morning, and what is more, on the way to the meet
they met Robert, and Robert met them, and instantly forgot all
about posting Aunt Emma's letter, and never thought of it again
until he and the others had wandered three times up and down the
platform at Waterloo--which makes six in all--and had bumped
against old gentlemen, and stared in the faces of ladies, and been
shoved by people in a hurry, and 'by-your-leaved' by porters with
trucks, and were quite, quite sure that Aunt Emma was not there.
Then suddenly the true truth of what he had forgotten to do came
home to Robert, and he said, 'Oh, crikey!' and stood still with his
mouth open, and let a porter with a Gladstone bag in each hand and
a bundle of umbrellas under one arm blunder heavily into him, and
never so much as said, 'Where are you shoving to now?' or, 'Look
out where you're going, can't you?' The heavier bag smote him at
the knee, and he staggered, but he said nothing.
When the others understood what was the matter I think they told
Robert what they thought of him.
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