concerting. They took it for granted
that she and Knight were an adoring newly married couple, like
themselves. Annesley was thankful to escape, and to go to bed in her
little panelled room.

"To-morrow, when I'm rested, things will be easier," she told herself.

But to-morrow came and she was not rested; for again she had not slept.

In Chicago there were hours to wait before train time. The Masons
proposed taking a motor-car to see the sights, and lunching together at
a famous Chinese restaurant.

At a sign from her, Knight consented. It was better to be with the Masons
than with him alone. After luncheon, however, Knight drew her aside.

"What about Los Angeles?" he inquired. "Have you decided?"

Annesley felt incapable of deciding anything, and her unhappy face
betrayed her state of mind.

"If you'd rather think it over longer," he said, "I can buy your ticket
at Albuquerque."

"Very well," Annesley replied. She did not remember where Albuquerque
was, though Knight had pointed it out on the map; and she did not care
to remember. All she wanted was not to decide then.

Knight turned away without speaking. But there was a look almost of hope
in his eyes. Things could not be what they had been; yet they were better
than they might be.

At Kansas City the Masons bade the Nelson Smiths good-bye. And from that
moment the Nelson Smiths ceased to exist. There were no initials on their
luggage.

The man kept to his own stateroom. Annesley, alone next door, had plenty
of books to read, parting gifts from the Waldos; but the most engrossing
novel ever written could not have held her attention. The landscape
changed kaleidoscopically. She wondered when they would arrive at
Albuquerque, wondered, yet did not want to know.

"Would you rather go to the dining car alone, or have me take you?"
Knight came to ask.

"It's better to go together, or people may think it strange," she said.
Even as she spoke she wondered at herself. The Masons having gone, the
other travellers--strangers whom they would not meet again--were not of
much importance. Yet she let her words pass. And at dinner that evening
she forced herself to ask, "Do we get to Albuquerque to-night?"

"Not till to-morrow forenoon," Knight informed her casually. He feared
for a moment that she might say she could not wait so long before making
up her mind; but she only looked startled, opened her lips as if to
speak, and closed them again.

Next day there w