toward them.

"Buy a paper? By no means," said mademoiselle, descending hastily to
earth again. "I have yesterday's paper, which I found on the ferry-boat.
It is in good order; I smoothed it out carefully; you can read that."
She produced it from some remote pocket, and Anne took refuge in its
pages, while Jeanne-Armande closed her eyes under the helmet, no doubt
to meditate further on the picture of felicity she had called up.

Anne felt all the weariness of long suspense. It was one o'clock; it was
half past one; it was nearly two; still he did not appear. Even
mademoiselle now roused herself, looked at her watch, and in her turn
began to ask where he could be; but she had the comfort of asking it
aloud.

The speed was now perceptibly slackened, and the brakeman announced at
the door: "Cen--ter--ville. _Twen_--timinets for dinner," in a bar of
music not unlike a hoarse Gregorian chant. At this instant Heathcote
entered from the next car.

"Ah! there he is," said mademoiselle, with satisfaction. "Do you think
he will partake of a little taste with us?" He joined them, and she
repeated her question in the shape of a modest allusion to the contents
of her basket.

"No, thanks; I shall go out and walk up and down to breathe the air. But
first, will you not go with me, and see what they have? Perhaps we might
find something not altogether uneatable."

Mademoiselle declined, with her most gracious smile. She would content
herself with the contents of her basket; but perhaps Anne--

The eastward-bound train was in, drawn up beside them.

"Yes," said Anne, "I should like to go." Then, as soon as they were in
the open air, "I only wish to speak to you for a moment," she began. "I
shall not go to the dining-room."

"Take my arm, then, and we will walk up and down."

"Yes, let us walk," she said, moving onward.

"We can not walk well unless you take my arm."

"I do not wish to walk well," she answered angrily.

He never would act according to her plan or theory. Here was all this
persistence about a trifle, while she was wrought up to matters of deep
moment.

"I do not care whether you wish to take it or not; you must. There!
_Now_ what do you want to say to me?" He was not wrought up at all; he
was even smiling, and looking at her in the same old way. It was hard to
begin under such circumstances; but she did begin. "Mr. Heathcote, while
I thank you for all your kindness--"

"I have not been kind; I only sai