ere they live. She sat wide-awake opposite to her
sleeping hostess, and made an entertainment for herself out of the
place and the night journey. It was a starlit, sultry night; the world
outside the hurrying train covered with a wonderful misty veil, under
which it lay half revealed by the heavenly illumination; soft,
mysterious, vast; a breath now and then whispering of nature's
luxuriant abundance and sweetness that lay all around, out there under
the stars, for miles and hundreds of miles. Lois looked and peered out
sometimes, so happy that it was not Shampuashuh, and that she was away,
and that she would see the sun shine on new landscapes when the morning
came round; and sometimes she looked within the car, and marvelled at
the different signs and tokens of human life and character that met her
there. And every yard of the way was a delight to her.

Meanwhile, how weirdly and strangely do the threads of human life cross
and twine and untwine in this world!

That same evening, in New York, in the Caruthers mansion in
Twenty-Third Street, the drawing-room windows were open to let in the
refreshing breeze from the sea. The light lace curtains swayed to and
fro as the wind came and went, but were not drawn; for Mrs. Caruthers
liked, she said, to have so much of a screen between her and the
passers-by. For that matter, the windows were high enough above the
street to prevent all danger of any one's looking in. The lights were
burning low in the rooms, on account of the heat; and within, in
attitudes of exhaustion and helplessness sat mother and daughter in
their several easy-chairs. Tom was on his back on the floor, which,
being nicely matted, was not the worst place. A welcome break to the
monotony of the evening was the entrance of Philip Dillwyn. Tom got up
from the floor to welcome him, and went back then to his former
position.

"How come you to be here at this time of year?" Dillwyn asked. "It was
mere accident my finding you. Should never have thought of looking for
you. But by chance passing, I saw that windows were open and lights
visible, so I concluded that something else might be visible if I came
in."

"We are only just passing through," Julia explained. "Going to Saratoga
to-morrow. We have only just come from Newport."

"What drove you away from Newport? This is the time to be by the sea."

"O, who cares for the sea! or anything else? it's the people; and the
people at Newport didn't suit mother.