-love, she
longed to share this with him and to have him know that she shared it;
to put her arms around him and _make him let her in_. But she knew
better now. She yearned over him silently, and did not touch him.

"Well, good-bye, Paul," said Mr. Welles, shaking hands with him.

"Well, good-bye," said Paul dryly, setting his jaw hard.

"Oh, this is the day-coach!" cried Eugenia. "Where is the drawing-room
car?"

"At the far end," said the conductor with the sweeping gesture of a man
used to talking with his arms.

"Good-bye, Mr. Welles," said Eugenia, giving him for an instant a small,
pearl-gray hand. "Boa voyage! Good luck!"

"Same to you," said the old gentleman, scrambling up the unswept,
cinder-covered steps into the day-coach.

At the front end of the train, the baggage man was tumbling into the
express car the fine, leather-covered boxes and the one square trunk.

Neale carried Eugenia's two small bags down to the drawing-room car and
now handed them to the porter.

The two women kissed each other on both cheeks, hurriedly, as someone
cried, "All aboard!"

Eugenia took Neale's outstretched hand. "Good-bye, Neale," she said.

With the porter's aid, she mounted the rubber-covered steps into the
mahogany and upholstery of the drawing-room car.

"Good luck, Eugenia! Bon voyage!" called Neale after her.

She did not turn around or look back.

* * * * *

Marise noted that characteristically Eugenia had forgotten Paul. But
Paul had forgotten her, too, and was now back near the day-coach
searching one window after another.

The conductor signaled widely, the whistle shrieked, the wheels groaned.
Neale drew Marise a little back out of the whirl of dust and stood
holding her arm for an instant.

It seemed to Marise as they stood thus, Neale holding her arm, that she
caught a last glimpse of Eugenia behind plate-glass, looking at them
gravely, steadily.

Paul suddenly caught sight of Mr. Welles' face at a window, snatched off
his cap, and waved it frantically, over and over, long after the train
was only an echoing roar from down the tracks.

* * * * *

Then the mountain-silence settled down about them calmly, and they could
hear their own hearts beat, and knew the thoughts in their minds.

As they went back to their battered Ford, Marise said thoughtfully,
"Somehow I believe that it will be a long time before we see Eugenia
again."