ignorant.

Her eyes were wet and her heart ached, with that same sort of physical
distress which had assailed her when Adrian went away, but now much
sharper. Yet her lips still smiled and Joseph, furtively regarding
her, was satisfied. She would give him no trouble.

A few miles' journey and she had entered what seemed like fairyland.
She had then no time for looking back or remembering. The towns were
wonderful, and the first time that she saw a young girl of her own age
she stared until the stranger made a grimace toward her. This
perplexed and annoyed her, but taught her a lesson: she stared no
more.

Yet she saw everything; and in that little book her uncle had provided
for this object made notes of her impressions, to be discussed with
him upon her return. Her first ride behind horses made her laugh
aloud. They were so beautiful and graceful and their strength so
appealed to her animal-loving heart. The ricketty buck-board, which
was their first vehicle, seemed luxurious, though after a few miles'
jogging over a corduroy-road she confided to Joseph that she preferred
a canoe.

"Umm. No shakeum up."

A stage drawn by four steeds, rather the worse for wear, yet with
the accompaniment of fellow-travelers and a musical horn, brought
memories of Cinderella and other childish heroines, and made the old
tales real; but when they reached the railway and stepped into a car
her interest grew painfully intense. When the conductor paused to
take their tickets, obligingly procured for this odd pair by the
stage-driver, Margot immediately requested to be put upon the engine.

"The engine! Well, upon my word!"

"Yes, I've never seen one, except the one in front of this car-train.
I know how they operate but I would so dearly like to see them working
close at hand. Can't I?"

The brass-buttoned official made no reply, save to purse his lips and
utter another low whistle; but he gave Margot and Joe a critical
survey and reflected that of all the passengers he had ever carried
these were the most unique. There was something in the girl's
intelligent face that was hard to deny, and for all his silence,
perhaps because of it, a certain dignity about the Indian that won
favor even for him.

It was a way-train on a branch road; one of the connecting links
between the wilderness and the land of the "through express" else it
might not have happened that, after so long a time had elapsed that
Margot felt her request was inde