t so very pleasant for us," she
said, earnestly.

The tall, soldierly old gentleman was waiting to assist his niece into
the coach.

"Go first, Uncle Caspar," the girl made Lorry happy by saying. "I can
easily come up unaided."

"Or I can assist her," Lorry hastened to add, giving her a grateful look
which she could not misunderstand. The uncle shook hands warmly with the
young man and passed up the steps. She was following when Lorry cried,

"Will you not allow me?"

She laughingly turned to him from the steps and stretched forth her
hand.

"And now it is good-by forever. I am so sorry that I have not seen more
of you," she said. He took her hand and held it tightly for a moment.

"I shall never forget the past few days," he said, a thrill in his
voice. "You have put something into my life that can never be taken
away. You will forget me before you are out of Washington, but I--I
shall always see you as you are now."

She drew her hand away gently, but did not take her eyes from his
upturned face.

"You are mistaken. Why should I forget you--ever? Are you not the ideal
American whose name I bought? I shall always remember you as I saw
you--at Denver."

"Not as I have been since?" he cried.

"Have you changed since first I saw you?" she asked, quaintly.

"I have, indeed, for you saw me before I saw you. I am glad I have not
changed for the worse in your eyes."

"As I first knew you with my eyes I will say that they are trustworthy,"
she said tantalizingly.

"I do not mean that I have changed externally."

"In any other case my eyes would not serve," she cried, with mock
disappointment. "Still," she added, sweepingly, "you are my ideal
American. Good-by! The man has called 'all aboard!'"

"Good-by!" he cried, swinging up on the narrow step beside her. Again he
clasped her hand as she drew back in surprise. "You are going out of my
land, but not out of my mind. If you wish your eyes to see the change in
me, you have only to look at them in a mirror. They are the change--they
themselves! Goodby! I hope that I may see you again."

She hesitated an instant, her eyes wavering beneath his. The train was
moving slowly now.

"I pray that we may meet," she said, softly, at last,--so softly that he
barely heard the words. Had she uttered no sound he could have been
sure of her response, for it was in her telltale eyes. His blood leaped
madly. "You will be hurt if you wait till the train is running at full