VIII
At last it was time for the two young people to catch the train for
Waterloo _en route_ for Fishbourne. They had to hurry, and as a
concluding glory of matrimony they travelled second-class, and were
seen off by all the rest of the party except the Punts, Master Punt
being now beyond any question unwell.
"Off!" The train moved out of the station.
Mr. Polly remained waving his hat and Mrs. Polly her handkerchief
until they were hidden under the bridge. The dominating figure to the
last was Mr. Voules. He had followed them along the platform waving
the equestrian grey hat and kissing his hand to the bride.
They subsided into their seats.
"Got a compartment to ourselves anyhow," said Mrs. Polly after a
pause.
Silence for a moment.
"The rice 'e must '_ave_ bought. Pounds and pounds!"
Mr. Polly felt round his collar at the thought.
"Ain't you going to kiss me, Elfrid, now we're alone together?"
He roused himself to sit forward hands on knees, cocked his hat over
one eye, and assumed an expression of avidity becoming to the
occasion.
"Never!" he said. "Ever!" and feigned to be selecting a place to kiss
with great discrimination.
"Come here," he said, and drew her to him.
"Be careful of my 'at," said Mrs. Polly, yielding awkwardly.
