never bear it again. But
you will help me? You'll understand now, and not think me foolish and
crazy, as you sometimes do?"

"Do I? I did not know it. I'll stand by you in everything, never fear!
Come, child, or we'll miss this train, too."

She preceded him without a word, and he was glad to keep quite behind
for a little, for when he remembered how he had called her "child" his
face was hot with embarrassment. He had never forgotten before. Had she
noticed? Her face told him nothing.

As they hurried out through the gates and down the platform to their
waiting train, the passengers were descending from another, just
arrived. Hastily crossing this tide transversely two men, arm in arm,
passed them close in the busy throng.

There was a familiar look about one of them, Joyce thought, as she had
just a side glimpse while hurrying by. But, absorbed in her own haste,
she did not notice particularly. George stopped short and turned for an
instant, then kept on just behind her. He had recognized Nate, and knew
him to be in charge of an officer, doubtless being conveyed to the
county jail. He had not expected this event till morning, and had meant,
himself, to prepare the poor fellow for it. Saddened and angry that the
man had been so summarily dealt with, Dalton's face took on its sternest
look, which Joyce caught as they seated themselves.

Not knowing its cause, she was startled and chagrined at the change.
What had she said, or done, to cause it?

Silently ruminating amid the sweet experiences of the day she failed to
find any clue, till he at length said, with a sigh.

"I have something to tell you. I thought at first I would keep it to
myself, but I'd rather tell you, myself, than have you hear it
elsewhere. They've taken poor Nate away. Did you notice, just now----"

"Was that he--with the tall man arm in arm? And was the tall man an
officer?"

George nodded to both questions.

"Yes, I'm sorry to say."

"Oh, poor Nate. He will be heart broken. Why couldn't they have left him
there? Till after the funeral at least. Oh, my friend, we have been too
thoughtless to-day! Our people at home have been suffering."

"And, had you been the sufferer, would you begrudge others a bit of
joy?"

"No, no, indeed!"

"Then why be self-reproachful now? We have done what we could for them,
and that is all even they could ask. We will not spoil the day with
regrets, or self-upbraidings, now."

He spoke in a deep voice, a