ves
waiting--Mrs. Kane, Robert, Mrs. Midgely, Louise, Amy, Imogene,
and the others. She actually succeeded in identifying most of them,
though it was not knowledge in this case, but pure instinct and
intuition.

No one had noticed it in the stress of excitement, but it was
Thanksgiving Eve. Throughout the great railroad station there was a
hum of anticipation, that curious ebullition of fancy which springs
from the thought of pleasures to come. People were going away for the
holiday. Carriages were at the station entries. Announcers were
calling in stentorian voices the destination of each new train as the
time of its departure drew near. Jennie heard with a desperate ache
the description of a route which she and Lester had taken more than
once, slowly and melodiously emphasized. "Detroit, Toledo, Cleveland,
Buffalo, and New York." There were cries of trains for "Fort Wayne,
Columbus, Pittsburg, Philadelphia, and points East," and then finally
for "Indianapolis, Louisville, Columbus, Cincinnati, and points
South." The hour had struck.

Several times Jennie had gone to the concourse between the
waiting-room and the tracks to see if through the iron grating which
separated her from her beloved she could get one last look at the
coffin, or the great wooden box which held it, before it was put on
the train. Now she saw it coming. There was a baggage porter pushing a
truck into position near the place where the baggage car would stop.
On it was Lester, that last shadow of his substance, incased in the
honors of wood, and cloth, and silver. There was no thought on the
part of the porter of the agony of loss which was represented here. He
could not see how wealth and position in this hour were typified to
her mind as a great fence, a wall, which divided her eternally from
her beloved. Had it not always been so? Was not her life a patchwork
of conditions made and affected by these things which she
saw--wealth and force--which had found her unfit? She had
evidently been born to yield, not seek. This panoply of power had been
paraded before her since childhood. What could she do now but stare
vaguely after it as it marched triumphantly by? Lester had been of it.
Him it respected. Of her it knew nothing. She looked through the
grating, and once more there came the cry of "Indianapolis,
Louisville, Columbus, Cincinnati, and points South." A long red train,
brilliantly lighted, composed of baggage cars, day coaches, a
dining-car