d we stopped short, "never to go again," like
grandfather's clock. It resulted in our having to be towed backwards to
the nearest garage, while the chauffeur jumped on a passing motor bound
for Pasadena, and was snatched from my sight like Elijah in the
chariot--he was off to get a new driving shaft. The smiling Helen
followed in a Ford full of old ladies. I elected to travel by train and
sat for hours in a small station waiting for the so-called "express." In
a hasty division of the lunch I got all the hard-boiled eggs, and of
course one can eat only a limited number of them, though I will say that
a few quite deaden one's appetite.
I had an amazing collection of bags, coats, and packages, and was
dreading embarking on the train. However, I have a private motto, "There
is a way." There was. The only occupant of the waiting-room besides
myself was a very dapper gentleman of what I should call lively middle
age, with very upstanding gray mustaches. I took him to be a marooned
motorist, also. He was well-dressed, with the added touch of an orange
blossom in his button-hole, and he had a slightly roving eye. His
hand-baggage was most "refined." I had noticed him looking my way at
intervals, and wondered if he craved a hard-boiled egg; I could easily
have spared him one! While I am certainly not in the habit of seeking
conversation with strange gentlemen, there are always exceptions to
everything, and I concluded that this was one. I smiled! We chatted on
the subject of the flora and fauna of California in a perfectly
blameless way till my train whistled, when he said, "I am going to carry
those bags for you, if you will allow me!" I thanked him aloud and
inwardly remarked, "I have known that for a long time!"
What made it especially pleasant was that I was going north and he was
going south. So ended my Adventure--not all Solitude, if you like, but
as near it as one can achieve with comfort. The amazing thing about it
was how well I got on with myself, for I don't think I'm particularly
easy to live with. I must ask J----. Probably it was the novelty.
[Illustration]
A SABINE FARM
I once remarked that I thought New York City a most friendly and
neighborly place, and was greeted with howls of derision. I suppose I
said it because that morning a dear old lady in an oculist's office had
patted me, saying, "My dear, it would be a pity to put glasses on you,"
and an imposing blonde in a smart Fifth Avenue shop
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