ese monkey-fixens, and dom the man
that gets me into them again."

Efficient as she was, the girl could not but admit that Lucius was
better able to serve her husband than herself. He was both deft and
strong; and though the swaying of the car troubled his master, he
steadied him and guided him and stowed him away as featly as if it were
the fiftieth instead of the first time; then, with a few words of
explanation to the wife, he quietly withdrew, and shut the door with a
final touch of considerate care which was new to her.

She would have been less troubled by him had he been a black man, but he
was not. He seemed more like a Spaniard, and his grizzled mustache,
yellowish skin, and big dreamy black eyes lent him a curious
distinction, and the thought that he was to take her place as crutch and
cane to the Captain gave her a sense of uselessness which she had not,
up to this moment, confessed.

His suggestions, combined to the minute instructions of Miss Franklin,
enabled her to get to her bunk in fair order, but no sleep came to her
for hours. She longed for her mother more childishly than at any time
since her marriage. She reproached herself for not bringing Miss
Franklin. "Why did I come at all?" she wailed, in final accusation.

There had been a time when the thought of this trip--of Chicago, New
York, and Washington--was big in her mind, but it was so no longer.
These great cities were but names--empty sounds compared to the
realities she was leaving: her splendid house, her horses and dogs--and
her daily joy in Ben Fordyce. She did not put these visits in their
highest place, not even when remembering his parting kiss, but she dwelt
upon the inspiriting morning drives, the talks in the mellow-tinted,
sunshine-lighted office. She recalled the lunches they took together and
the occasional wild gallops up the canon--these she treasured as the
golden realities, for the loss of which she was even now heart-sick.

One thought alone steadied her--gave her a kind of resignation: the
Captain wanted to find his sisters, to revisit the scenes of his youth,
and it was her duty to go with him. And in this somewhat dreary comfort
she fell asleep at last.

She was awakened next morning by a pleasant voice saying: "The first
call for breakfast has been made, Mrs. Haney." And she looked up to find
Lucius peering in at the door with serious, kindly eyes. He added,
formally: "If I can assist you in any way call me, and pleas