u injured, madam? Can I do anything for you?" Edith inquired,
while her husband, springing to her aid, exclaimed, in a tone of
mingled concern and impatience:
"What have you done, Anna?"
"Turned my ankle, I think," the woman replied, as she leaned heavily
against his shoulder for support.
Edith stooped to pick up the beautiful Russia leather bag which she
had dropped as she stumbled, and followed the couple to the train,
where, with the help of a porter, the injured lady was assisted into a
parlor car.
The one adjoining it was the common passenger coach in which Edith had
ridden from New York.
"Here is madam's bag, sir," she remarked to the gentleman, as,
supporting his wife with one arm, he was about to pass into the
Pullman.
"Are you going on this train?" he inquired, looking back over his
shoulder at her.
"Yes, sir; but I do not belong in the parlor car."
"Never mind; we will fix that all right. Bring the bag along, if you
will be so kind," he returned, as he went on with his companion.
So Edith followed them to the little state-room at one end of the car,
where madam sank heavily into a chair, looking as if she were ready to
swoon.
"Oh, get off my boot!" she pleaded, thrusting out her injured foot.
Edith drew forward a hassock for it to rest upon, and then, with a
face full of sympathy, dropped upon her knees and began to unbutton
the boot, which, however, was no easy matter, as the ankle was already
much swollen.
The train began to move just at this moment, and the young girl
started to her feet, an anxious look sweeping over her face.
"Never mind," said the gentleman, reassuringly. "Unless you have
friends aboard the train to be troubled about you, I will take you
back to your car presently."
"I have no one--I am traveling alone," Edith responded, and flushing
slightly, as she encountered the gaze of earnest admiration which he
bestowed upon her.
The gentleman's face lighted at her reply.
"Then would it be presuming upon your kindness too much to ask you to
remain with my wife?" he inquired. "I am perfectly helpless, like most
men, when any one is ill and we know no one on the train."
"I will gladly stay, and do whatever I can for her," eagerly returned
Edith, who felt that it would be a great relief and safeguard if she
could complete her journey under the protection of these prepossessing
people; while, too, it would give her something to think of and keep
her from dwelli
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