on I
lay down again and nibbled the tablets in the berth. That would enable me
to assert truthfully that I was not hungry and did not care for breakfast
in the diner.

Oh, dear! Wasn't it awful! I did tell her that very thing, and she said
she didn't believe she was hungry either. Then we were polite to each
other till noon. When the waiter's dreaded voice once more rang out, I
made my little speech that I had been composing all the morning. It was
as follows:

"Don't wait for me, Miss Lane. I consider that over-eating is a heinous
fault among Americans, and so I have decided to omit the dining-car for
the remainder of this journey. Pray, do not let me keep you."

She said, "Why, that's exactly what I think, too."

Just fancy! And there I was almost famished. I thought she would leave me
at once, and I could have a chance to eat the luncheon spoiling in my
box. Chicken sandwiches and jelly and olives and salted almonds and fruit
and cake and everything good. I had been thinking of it for hours.

What could I do? There she sat, and there I sat in plain sight of each
other, being in the same seat for the sake of sociability, though her
section was the one in front of mine. She seemed rather quiet and
formal--not so much stiff as limp, so to speak. Still there was no
cordiality about it. Just as I felt I could not stand starvation another
minute, she rose and said she believed she would go into the
observation-car for a while. She did not invite me to accompany her, and
I made no offer to go. I simply sat and smiled and watched her fumble in
her bag for a few minutes before extricating what was apparently a rolled
up magazine. Then she marched down the aisle. The instant she had
vanished into the vestibule, I made a dive for my box. In just thirty
seconds I had consumed half a sandwich and a slice of cake. I kept my
eyes on the spot where she had disappeared, you had better believe. Oh,
wasn't I silly? But then, I promised not to allude to that obvious fact
again. That lunch tasted good. And I had plenty of time to eat all I
wanted, though I cut short the chewing process.

When it was all down to the very last olive, I brushed off all the crumbs
I could see, and decided to walk into the observation car and be polite
again. So I did. And what do you suppose? Through the glass at the rear I
saw her sitting sort of sidewise so that one eye could watch the door
where I was entering. It seemed to me that she gave a little