ically, as much as to say: "I can see that you are a
gentlewoman. Please accept me as a gentleman and permit me to do my
duty." There was a brief, silent tug-of-war between his unselfishness
and hers. He won. Before she realized it, she had dropped wearily into
his place.

"But where will you sit?" she said.

"Oh, I'll get along."

He smiled and moved off, lugging his suit-case. He had the air of one
who would get along. He had shown himself masterful in two combats,
and compelled her to take the chair he had doubtless engaged with
futile providence days before.

"Rahthah a decentish chap, with a will of his own," she thought.

The train started, left the station twilight, plunged into the tunnel
of gloom and made the dip under the Hudson River. People felt their
ears buzz and smother. Wise ones swallowed hard. The train came back
to the surface and the sunlight, and ran across New Jersey.

Marie Louise decided to take her luncheon early, to make sure of it.
Nearly everybody else had decided to do the same thing. At this time
all the people in America seemed to be thinking _en masse_. When she
reached the dining-car every seat was taken and there was a long
bread-line in the narrow corridor.

The wilful man was at the head. He fished for her eye, caught it, and
motioned to her to take his place. She shook her head. But it seemed
to do no good to shake heads at him; he came down the corridor and
lifted his hat. His voice and words were pleading, but his tone was
imperative.

"Please take my place."

She shook her head, but he still held his hand out, pointing. She was
angry at being bossed even for her own benefit. Worse yet, by the time
she got to the head of the line the second man had moved up to first.
He stared at her as if he wondered what she was doing there. She fell
back, doubly vexed, but That Man advanced and gave the interloper a
look like a policeman's shove. The fellow backed up on the next man's
toes. Then the cavalier smiled Miss Webling to her place and went back
to the foot of the class without waiting for her furious thanks.

She wanted to stamp her foot. She had always hated to be cowed or
compelled to take chairs or money. People who had tried to move her
soul or lend her their experience or their advantages had always
aroused resentment.

Before long she had a seat. The man opposite her was just thumbing his
last morsel of pie. She supposed that when he left That Man would take
the ch