ich, at his action, increased. Nay,
the laughter began to be shared by strangers; and some set down their
hand-luggage for greater pleasure in what they saw.

William's inward state became chaotic.

He tried to smile carelessly, to prove his composure, but he found that
he had lost almost all control over his features. He had no knowledge
of his actual expression except that it hurt him. In desperation he fell
back upon hauteur; he managed to frown, and walked proudly. At that
they laughed the more, Wallace Banks rudely pointing again and again at
William; and not till the oncoming sufferer reached a spot within
twenty feet of these delighted people did he grasp the significance of
Wallace's repeated gesture of pointing. Even then he understood only
when the gesture was supplemented by half-articulate shouts:

"Behind you! Look BEHIND you!"

The stung youth turned.

There, directly behind him, he beheld an exclusive little procession
consisting of two damsels in single file, the first soiled with
house-moving, the second with apple sauce.

For greater caution they had removed their shoes; and each damsel,
as she paraded, dangled from each far-extended hand a shoe. And both
damsels, whether beneath apple sauce or dust smudge, were suffused with
the rapture of a great mockery.

They were walking with their stummicks out o' joint.

At sight of William's face they squealed. They turned and ran. They got
themselves out of sight.

Simultaneously, the air filled with solid thunder and the pompous train
shook the ground. Ah, woe's the word! This was the thing that meant to
bear away the golden girl and honeysuckle of the world--meant to, and
would, not abating one iron second!

Now a porter had her hand-bag.

Dear Heaven! to be a porter--yes, a colored one! What of that, NOW? Just
to be a simple porter, and journey with her to the far, strange pearl
among cities whence she had come!

The gentle porter bowed her toward the steps of his car; but first she
gave Flopit into the hands of May Parcher, for a moment, and whispered
a word to Wallace Banks; then to Joe Bullitt; then to Johnnie
Watson;--then she ran to William.

She took his hand.

"Don't forget!" she whispered. "Don't forget Lola!"

He stood stock-still. His face was blank, his hand limp. He said
nothing.

She enfolded May Parcher, kissed her devotedly; then, with Flopit once
more under her arm, she ran and jumped upon the steps just as the train
be