nsciously she was struggling against
yielding to the charm of the vivid young creature who threatened to
take her by storm. In all her life she had never been deeply or warmly
affected by another personality. Perhaps now she realized this dimly,
and some instinct warned her subtly to avoid any departure from old
habitude, even when avoidance meant the first real struggle she had
ever made against definite inclination.

It seemed long before the other occupants of the car began to stroll
in. Then the engine whistled sharp warning, the laggards trooped back,
and the train started briskly. Elsie Moss entered by the rear door, as
Elsie Marley knew, though she did not turn around. She said to herself
that no doubt she would be upon her directly, that she would have her
company for the rest of the day and the remainder of the journey. But
she established herself in the middle of the seat lest she seem to give
any invitation.

CHAPTER III

Elsie Marley was not interrupted, as it happened. Some little time
passed and still she was alone. The girl could not understand a
certain unrest that was upon her. She waited a few moments longer,
then she moved close to the window so as to leave more than half the
seat vacant. Still nothing happened.

At length she turned and looked back. Elsie Moss, who sat between an
old lady and a little boy, smiled and nodded. Elsie Marley half
smiled. Still the other made no move. Then she looked back, really
smiled, and beckoned her to a place beside her.

Elsie Moss, more than willing to be summoned, had some difficulty in
getting away from her present companions. But the grandmother
prevailed upon the little boy to spare her, and she presented herself
at Elsie Marley's seat smiling in her irresistible way with the big
dimples indented, and looking as if she would like to hug her as she
had hugged the little girl outside. And Elsie Marley had a curious
intimation that she shouldn't have minded greatly.

"What do you think," exclaimed Miss Moss as she seated herself, "you
know all my family history and I don't even know your name. I've been
guessing. It ought to be either Isabel or Hildegarde. Is it? Oh, I
do wish it were, they're both so sort of stately and princess-like that
they'd just suit you."

"It isn't either," responded the other with a curious sense of
disappointment. "My name is Elsie also."

"Of all things! But it's rather jolly, after all. And what'