and say to her courteously, "Sit here, madam." But no, his eyes
were only intent on the darkness without; he had no care for her, Adah,
though he knew she was there.

The oil lamp was burning dimly, and the girl's white face was lost in
the shadow, when the young man first glanced at her, so he had no
suspicion of the truth, though a most indefinable sensation crept over
him as he heard the timid footfall, and the rustling of female garments
as Adah Hastings drew near with her boy in her arms. He knew she stopped
before him; he knew, too, why she stopped, and for a brief instant his
better nature bade him be a man and offer her what he knew she wanted.
But only for an instant, and then his selfishness prevailed. "He would
not seem to see her, he would not be bothered by a woman with a brat. If
there was anything he hated it was a woman traveling with a young one, a
squalling young one. They would never catch his wife, when he had one,
doing a thing so unladylike. A car was no place for children. He hated
the whole of them."

Adah passed on, her weary sigh falling distinctly on his ear, but
falling to awaken a feeling of remorse for his unmanly conduct.

"I'm glad she's gone. I can't be bothered," was his mental comment as he
settled himself more comfortably, feeling a glow of satisfaction when
the train began to move, and he knew no more women with their babies
would be likely to trouble him.

With that first heavy strain of the machinery Adah lost her balance, and
would have fallen headlong but for the friendly hand put forth to save
the fall.

"Take my seat, miss. It is not very convenient, but it is better than
none. I can find another."

It was the friendliest voice imaginable which said these words to Adah,
and the kind tone in which they were uttered wrung the hot tears at once
from her eyes. She did not look up at him. She only knew that some one,
a gentleman, had arisen and was bending over her; that a hand, large,
white and warm, was laid upon her shoulder, putting her gently into the
narrow seat next the saloon; that the same hand took from her and hung
above her head the little satchel which was so much in her way, and that
the manly voice, so sympathetic in its tone, asked if she would be too
warm so near the fire.

She did not know there was a fire. She only knew that she had found a
friend, and with the delicious feeling of safety which the knowledge
brought, the tension of her nerves gave way, and