ud. "Was it you who
said--who said, 'Remember! Across--across--"'

"'Across Main Street bridge at noon!'" she finished for him, gently.
"Yes."

He took a deep breath in the wonder of it. "Where was it you said
that?" he asked, slowly. "Was it last night?"

"Don't you even know that you came to meet me?"

"_I_--came to--to meet--you!"

She gave a little pitying cry, very near a sob, seeing his utter
bewilderment.

"It was like the strangest dream in the world," she said. "You were at
the station when I came, last night. You don't remember at all?"

His eyes downcast, his face burning hotly, he could only shake his head.

"Yes," she continued. "I thought no one would be there, for I had not
written to say what train I should take, but when I stepped down from
the platform, you were standing there; though you didn't see me at
first, not until I had called your name and ran to you. You said,
'I've come to meet you,' but you said it queerly, I thought. And then
you called a carriage for me; but you seemed so strange you couldn't
tell how you knew that I was coming, and--and then I--I understood you
weren't yourself. You were very quiet, but I knew, I knew! So I made
you get into the carriage--and--and--"

She faltered to a stop, and with that, shame itself brought him
courage; he turned and faced her. She had lifted her handkerchief to
her eyes, but at his movement she dropped it, and it was not so much
the delicate loveliness of her face that he saw then as the tears upon
her cheeks.

"Ah, poor boy!" she cried. "I knew! I knew!"

"You--you took me home?"

"You told me where you lived," she answered. "Yes, I took you home."

"I don't understand," he stammered, huskily. "I don't understand!"

She leaned toward him slightly, looking at him with great intentness.

"You didn't know me last night," she said. "Do you know me now?"

For answer he could only stare at her, dumfounded. He lifted an
unsteady hand toward her appealingly. But the manner of the lady, as
she saw the truth, underwent an April change. She drew back lightly; he
was favored with the most delicious, low laugh he had ever heard, and,
by some magic whisk which she accomplished, there was no sign of tears
about her.

"Ah! I'm glad you're the same, Joe!" she said. "You never would or
could pretend very well. I'm glad you're the same, and I'm glad I've
changed, though that isn't why you have forgotten me. You've forgotten
me becau