r actions
as best he could.

CHAPTER XXIX.

A DREAM ENDED.

Joyce could only hope nothing had been heard in the corridor, but her
first surreptitious glance was not consolatory. Camille, with an
expression oddly commingled of mirth and petulance, was intensely busy
with her glove-fastening, while the broad back of George Dalton, who was
apparently as busy gazing from a barred window against a stone wall, had
a most uncanny look of intelligence about it. As for the sheriff--he did
not try to conceal the grin with which he looked at that back, and then
at Joyce, who would have given a large slice of her fortune for a
sheltering veil to cover her face, just then. As the party marched out
into the open air there was an appearance of constraint about them.
Camille kept persistently at her brother's side, and Joyce was forced to
follow with George. He tried so hard to look non-committal that he only
succeeded in looking thoroughly cross, and Leon was shut within himself,
evidently dazed, but trying to think the thing out.

The tension did not loosen as they made their way to the great depot,
just in time to board the earlier of the "dinner trains," at 5.13. But,
as they passed in, Joyce circumvented any further such pairing off by
calmly seating herself by Camille, and leaving the young men to adjust
themselves as they would.

Few realize the many disagreeable trifles that accompany the movements
of any notable personage. Joyce was often pointed out as the great
heiress, who had eschewed city society to manage her business affairs in
person, and Leon's air, even in civilian dress, was observable. Many
eyes were turned upon the little party, who were presently seated near
together in the train, and Joyce broke the spell of rigidity by leaning
over to Leon and remarking, _sotto voce_,

"If you had only worn your uniform everybody would have stared. Now I
think there are as many as three who have not noticed us. Is there no
way of stirring up those three?"

His ready laughter answered her sally, and the strain was relieved.

But when they reached the home station Dalton proved that he was not
lacking in tact, at least. Carelessly assuming that Joyce was thoroughly
well escorted, he bade the trio a cheerful good-night on the platform,
and struck off for his own home, without even a backward glance.

Leon nodded approvingly, all to himself.

"The fellow has self-control, anyhow," he thought, as he offered an ar