She had tried all the routes, and once she
had gone through Canada; she had looked at canal-boats meditatively. She
was haunted by a vision that some day she might find a clean captain and
captain's wife who would receive her as passenger, and allow her to cook
her own little meals along shore. Once, she explained to Anne, a
Sunday-school camp-meeting had reduced the rates, she being apparently
on her way thither. She had always regretted that the season of State
fairs was a month later: she felt herself capable of being on her way to
all of them.

"But now, whether to go on to Valley City, or to leave the train at
Stringhampton Junction, is the question I can not decide," she said,
with irritation, having returned discomfited from another encounter with
a ticket-seller.

"We reach Weston by both routes, do we not?" said Anne.

"Of course; that follows without saying. Evidently you do not comprehend
the considerations which are weighing upon me. However, I will get it
out of the ticket agent at New Macedonia," said mademoiselle, rising.
"Come, the train is ready."

They were going only as far as New Macedonia that night; mademoiselle
had slept there twice, and intended to sleep there again. Once, in her
decorous maiden life, she had passed a night in a sleeping-car, and
never again would her foot "cross the threshold of one of those
outrageous inventions." She remembered even now with a shudder the
processions of persons in muffled drapery going to the wash-rooms in the
early morning. New Macedonia existed only to give suppers and
breakfasts; it had but two narrow sleeping apartments over its abnormal
development of dining-room below. But the military genius of
Jeanne-Armande selected it on this very account; for sleeping-rooms
where no one ever slept, half-price could in conscience alone be
charged. All night Anne was wakened at intervals by the rushing sound of
passing trains. Once she stole softly to the uncurtained window and
looked out; clouds covered the sky, no star was visible, but down the
valley shone a spark which grew and grew, and then turned white and
intense, as, with a glare and a thundering sound, a locomotive rushed
by, with its long line of dimly lighted sleeping-cars swiftly and softly
following with their unconscious human freight, the line ending in two
red eyes looking back as the train vanished round a curve.

"Ten hours' sleep," said mademoiselle, awaking with satisfaction in the
morning.