him every moment of her day in
Washington. But even as he dreamed, he was certain that his hopes could
not be gratified.

After the train had come to a standstill he could hear the rustle of
her garments in the next compartment. Then he heard her sweep into the
passage, greet her uncle and aunt, utter a few commands to the maid,
and, while he was adjusting his collar and necktie, pass from the car.
No man ever made quicker time in dressing than did Lorry. She could
hardly have believed him ideal had she seen his scowling face or heard
the words that hissed through his impatient teeth.

"She'll get away, and that'll be the end of it," he growled, seizing his
traps and rushing from the train two minutes after her departure. The
porter attempted to relieve him of his bags on the platform, but he
brushed him aside and was off toward the station.

"Nice time for you, to call a man, you idiot," was his parting shot for
the porter, forgetting of course, that the foreigners had been called
at the same time. With eyes intent on the crowd ahead, he plunged along,
seeing nobody in his disappointed flight. "I'll never forgive myself if
I miss her," he was wailing to himself. She was not to be seen in the
waiting rooms, so he rushed to the sidewalk.

"Baggage transferred?"

"Cab, sir?"

"Go to the devil--yes, here! Take these traps and these checks and rush
my stuff to No.----, W---- Avenue. Trunks just in on B.& O.," he cried,
tossing his burdens to a transfer man and giving him the checks so
quickly that the fellow's sleepy eyes opened wider than they had been
for a month. Relieved of his impedimenta, he returned to the station.

"Good morning, Mr. Lorry. Are you in too much of a hurry to see your
friends?" cried a clear, musical voice, and he stopped as if shot. The
anxious frown flew from his brow and was succeeded instantaneously by a
glad smile. He wheeled and beheld her, with Aunt Yvonne, standing near
the main entrance to the station. "Why, good morning," he exclaimed,
extending his hand gladly. To his amazement she drew herself up
haughtily and ignored the proffered hand. Only for a brief second did
this strange and uncalled--for hauteur obtain. A bright smile swept over
her face, and her repentant fingers sought his timidly, even awkwardly.
Something told him that she was not accustomed to handshaking; that same
something impelled him to bend low and touch the gloved fingers with his
lips. He straightened, with fac