ut her throat which a
restless pulse had tightened almost to the exclusion of her breath. Ready
to drop, she yet made use of the little energy left her, to approach with
faltering steps a lumbering old vehicle waiting in the dust and smoke for
such passengers as might wish to be taken up Long Hill.

There was no driver in sight, but she did not hesitate to take her seat
inside. There was extra business at the station, for this was the first
train to come in for two days; and if anyone noticed her in the shadowy
recesses of the cumbrous old coach, nobody approached her; nor was she in
any way disturbed. When the driver did show himself, she was almost
asleep, but she woke up quickly enough when his good-natured face peered
in at her and she heard him ask where she wanted to go and whether she
had any baggage.

"I want to go up Long Hill and be set down at the first cross-road," she
said. "My baggage is here." And she pointed to the space at her feet.
But that space was empty; she had no baggage. She had dropped both bag
and umbrella at the side of the road after one of her long climbs under a
fitful moon and had not so much as thought of them since.

Now she remembered and flushed as she met the eyes of the man looking in
at her with his hand on his whiskers, smoothing them thoughtfully down
but saying nothing, though his countenance and expression showed him to
be one of the loquacious sort. If any smiles remained to her from the old
days, now was the time for one; but before she could twist her dry lips
into any such attempt, he had uttered a cheerful "All right" and turned
away to clamber up into his seat.

The relief was great, and she settled back, rejoicing in the fact that
they would soon be moving and that she was likely to be the sole
passenger. But she soon came to rue this fact, for the driver wanted to
talk and even made many abortive attempts that way. But she could not
fall in with his mood, and seeing this, he soon withheld all remarks
and bent his full energies to the task of urging his horses up the
interminable incline.

Houses, at which she scarcely looked, disappeared gradually from view,
and groups of spreading trees and patches of upland took their places,
deepening into the forest as they advanced. When halfway up, the farther
mountains, which had hitherto been hidden by nearer hills, burst into
view. Behind them the sun was setting, and the scene was glorious. If
she saw it at all, she gave n