or he never would have ordered rice pudding with a confidence that
set their own negro waiter grinning from ear to ear.

She bit her red lips and looked out of the window; but the window,
blackened by night and quicksilvered by the snow, was only a mirror for
a very lovely and distressed face.

Indeed, she was charming in her supposed role; their fellow-passengers'
criticisms were exceedingly favorable. Even the young imp who had
pronounced them B. and G. with infantile unreserve appeared to be
impressed by her fresh, young beauty; and an old clergyman across the
aisle beamed on them at intervals, and every beam was a benediction.

As for them, embarrassment and depression were at first masked under a
polite gayety; but the excitement of the drama gained on them;
appearances were to be kept up in the roles of a comedy absolutely
forced upon them; and that brought exhilaration.

From mental self-absolution they ventured on mentally absolving each
other. Fate had done it! Their consciences were free. Their situation
was a challenge in itself, and to accept it must mean to conquer.

Stirring two lumps of sugar into his cup of coffee, he looked up
suddenly, to find her gray eyes meeting his across the table. They
smiled like friends.

"Of what are you thinking?" she asked.

"I was thinking that perhaps you had forgiven me," he said, hopefully.

"I have"--she frowned a little--"I _think_ I have."

"And--you do not think me a coward?"

"No," she said, watching him, chin propped on her linked fingers.

He laughed gratefully.

"As a matter of cold fact," he observed, "if we had met anywhere in
town--under other circumstances--there is no reason that I can see why
we shouldn't have become excellent friends."

"No reason at all," she said, thoughtfully.

"And that reminds me," he went on, dropping his voice and leaning across
the table, "I'm going to send back a telegram to my sister, and I fancy
you may wish to send one to your wandering brother."

"I suppose I'd better," she said. An involuntary shiver passed over her.
"He's probably frantic," she added.

"Probably," he admitted.

"My father and mother are in Europe," she observed. "I hope my brother
hasn't cabled them."

"I think we'd better get those telegrams off," he said, motioning the
waiter to bring the blanks and find pen and ink.

They waited, gazing meditatively at each other. Presently he said:

"I'd like to tell you what it is that sends me f