r:

"The boat is in. Please keep close to me."

Bump! creak--cre--ak! bump! Then came the clank of wheel and chain, and
the crowded cabin, and pressing throngs which crushed her close to his
shoulder; and, "Please take my arm," he said; "I can protect you better
so."

A long, covered way, swarming with people, a glimpse of a street and
whirling snowflakes, an iron fence pierced by gates where gilt-and-blue
officials stood, saying, monotonously: "Tickets! Please show your
tickets. This way for the Palmetto Special. The Eden Limited on track
number three."

"Would you mind holding my umbrella a moment?" he asked.

She took it.

He produced the two tickets and they passed the gate, following a porter
who carried their luggage.

Presently their porter climbed the steps of a sleeping-car. She followed
and sat down beside her valise, resting her elbow on the polished
window-sill, and her flushed cheek on her hand.

He passed her and continued on towards the end of the car, where she saw
him engage in animated conversation with several officials. The
officials shook their heads, and, after a while, he came slowly back to
where she sat.

"I tried to exchange into another car," he said. "It cannot be done."

"Why do you wish to?" she asked, calmly.

"I suppose you would--would rather I did," he said. "I'll stay in the
smoker all I can."

She made no comment. He stood staring gloomily at the floor.

"I'm awfully sorry," he said, at last. "I'm not quite as selfish as you
think. My--my younger brother is in a lot of trouble--down at St.
Augustine. I couldn't have saved him if I hadn't caught this train.... I
know you can't forgive me; so I'll say--so I'll ask permission to say
good-bye."

"Don't--please don't go," she said, faintly.

He wheeled towards her again.

"How on earth am I to dine if you go away?" she asked. "I've a thousand
miles to go, and I've simply got to dine."

"What a stupid brute I am!" he said, between his teeth. "I try to be
decent, but I can't. I'll do anything in the world to spare you--indeed
I will. Tell me, would you prefer to dine alone--"

"Hush! people are listening," she said, in a low voice. "It's bad enough
to be taken for bride and groom, but if people in this car think we've
quarrelled I--I simply cannot endure it."

"Who took us for--that?" he whispered, fiercely.

"Those people behind you; don't look! I heard that horrid little boy
say, 'B. and G.!' and others heard it.