For, keeping even pace
with the gallop of love, pride rode militant. Life without Gertrude
would be but a barren waste, said one; and, better a desert and solitude
therein than an Eden envenomed by the serpent of inequality, retorted
the other. Which proves that class distinctions are buttressed from
below no less securely than they are suspended from above; and that
feudalism in the subject has become extinct in one form only to flourish
quite vigorously in another.

But these were under-thoughts. In his proper person, the passenger agent
was doing his best to keep his promise to Gertrude; to make the day a
little oasis of care-free enjoyment in the humdrum desert of
commonplace.

At Georgetown, Burton proposed the transfer of the entire party to one
of the observation-cars for the better viewing of the Loop, and the
thing was done forthwith. But at the last moment Gertrude decided to
remain in the coach, and Brockway stayed with her, as a matter of
course.

"I've seen it twice, and I don't care to hang over the edge of it," she
said. "Besides, it's very comfortable in here; don't you think so?"

"I'm not finding any fault," Brockway rejoined. "I wish we might have
the coach to ourselves for the rest of the day."

"Do you? I thought you had been enjoying yourself all along."

"So I have, in a way; but I hate and abhor a crowd--I've had to be the
nucleus of too many of them, I suppose."

"What do you call a crowd?" she inquired, laughing at the outburst of
vindictiveness.

"Three people--sometimes. Half the pleasure of this forenoon has been
slain by the knowledge that we'll have to fight for our dinners with the
mob at that wretched little _table d'hote_ at Graymont."

"Can't we escape it?"

"Not without going hungry."

"I think Mr. and Mrs. Burton are going to escape it."

"What makes you think that?"

"This," said Gertrude, pointing to a well-filled lunch-basket under the
seat.

"Praised be Allah!" Brockway exclaimed, fervently. "You can trust Burton
to look out for the small personal comforts. And he never so much as
hinted at this when I was grumbling about the dinner awhile ago. I've a
mind to punish him."

"How?"

"By confiscating the basket. We could run away by ourselves and have a
quiet little picnic dinner while they wrestle with the mob."

But Gertrude demurred. "That would be too callously villanous," she
objected. "Can't we divide with them?"

"And go away by ourselves with the sp