you; and--and, Hugh, if I do, I'll tell you so at the proper time."

There was a gleam of sunshine now to illumine the thick darkness, and,
in the first moments of his joy Hugh wound his arm around the slight
form, and tried to bring it nearer to him. But Alice stepped back and
answered:

"No, Hugh, that would be wrong. It may be I shall never come to love
you save as I love you now, but I'll try--I will try," and unmindful of
her charge to him, Alice parted the damp curls clustering around his
forehead, and looked into his face with an expression which made his
heart bound and throb with the sudden hope that even now she loved him
better than she supposed.

It was growing very late, and the clock in the adjoining room struck one
ere Alice bade Hugh good-night, saying to him:

"No one must know of this. We'll be just the same to each other as we
have been."

"Yes, just the same, if that can be," Hugh answered, and so they parted.

CHAPTER XXX

ADAH'S JOURNEY

The night express from Rochester to Albany was crowded. Every car was
full, or seemed to be, and the clamorous bell rang out its first summons
for all to get on board, just as a pale, frightened-looking woman,
bearing in her slender arms a sleeping boy, whose little face showed
signs of suffering, stepped upon the platform of the rear carriage, and
looked wistfully in at the long, dark line of passengers filling every
seat. Wearily, anxiously, she had passed through every car, beginning at
the first, her tired eyes scanning each occupant, as if mutely begging
some one to have pity on her ere exhausted nature failed entirely, and
she sank fainting to the floor. None had heeded that silent appeal,
though many had marked the pallor of her girlish face, and the extreme
beauty of the baby features nestling in her bosom. She could not hold
out much longer, and when she reached the last car and saw that, too,
was full, the delicate chin quivered perceptibly, and a tear glistened
in the long eyelashes, sweeping the colorless cheek.

Slowly she passed up the aisle until she came to where there was indeed
a vacant seat, only a gentleman's shawl was piled upon it, and he, the
gentleman, looking so unconcernedly from the window, and apparently
oblivious of her close proximity to him, would not surely object to her
sitting there. How the tired woman did wish he would turn toward her,
would give some token that she was welcome, would remove his heavy
plaid,