ozen years since she last had seen him added much
to an expressive face; his shoulders had broadened and he weighed
perhaps a pound or more for each year;--but it was the same John, her
John,--and she sat and looked into his face and two tears stole down her
cheeks. He stirred, and she turned her face towards her window.

The twilight shadows deepened into night. A waiter came through calling;
"Last call for supper." She arose and walking down the aisle towards the
diner, heard her neighbor move and come following after. When she
reached the vestibule she dropped her handkerchief and as she stooped,
he picked it up. Then the little comedy of surprise and recognition was
acted;--"Oh, John!" "Oh, Mary!"

As they passed into the diner a wise old waiter, who knew he made no
mistake when he spoke of a handsome woman to a man as his wife, though
she might not be, said; "Will this table suit your wife, Sar?" Then John
found that Mary could blush like the mountain girl of old.

They ate slowly, talking of the many things that had happened since last
they parted on Straight Creek at the foot of the Salt Trace trail, and
until the waiter told them; "Boss, this car is drapped at the next
station and they's blowin' fer her now." Then John paid the check and
gave him a dollar. As the waiter closed the door after them he said to
another; "There goes a sure nuff Southern gentleman."

They took seats in Mary's section and continued their talk several
hours; about the marriage of Caleb and Rosamond; Mary's school days; her
trip abroad and her experiences of five years as a teacher; and John of
his business, of his mother, of Bradford and Dorothy and Rosamond; he
even told how near he came to proposing to Rosamond.

"That explains why you were not invited to the wedding. I quarreled with
Caleb and Rosamond when I learned you had not been. Caleb said he
supposed you were; while Rosamond made the excuse that she intended to
but overlooked you in the rush. She calls her husband John Calhoun and
Caleb has promised to change the sign on his office door and to order
new business stationery, which is to be embossed with the name, John
Calhoun Saylor."

The conductor passing through the car glanced at them several times as
did the drummer who occupied the seat forward. They met in the smoking
compartment and the drummer handed the conductor a cigar.

"Well, Mr. Drummer, she seems to like the other fellow; at least she
hasn't sent for me.