ad certain patrio-political engagements which
occupied him until after noon on that day, rendering it impossible to
leave by the morning train. Leaving by that at five o'clock, they would
connect with the train on the New York Central leaving Albany at
midnight, and reach Utica very early in the morning. There Josephine
would be set down, while Leslie, after seeing to her stage
accommodation, would whirl onward with the train, for Niagara.

The connection between love and railroad-riding may not be obvious to
all; and there are some, no doubt, who think the flying speed of the
modern conveyance terribly unromantic. But there are others who know of
nothing more thoroughly pleasant than lounging back easily in the
cushioned seat of a railway-carriage, with _the one_ close beside, with
one hand in reach at any moment, the one face ready to reply in smiles
to the look of pleasure given, and the one head ready to repose upon the
shoulder when night comes on or the continued motion of the train brings
on drowsiness. Of the latter class were both Tom Leslie and Joe Harris,
both of whom had travelled much, though very differently, and neither of
whom had ever before experienced the luxury of the one peculiar
companionship. They may ride far and see Nature in her most wonderful
phases, in other days; but it is doubtful whether either will ever
experience a greater pleasure than that of sitting by the side of the
other, on that July afternoon, conscious that they were _together_, and
of very little else, but dimly aware, too, that they were sweeping away
from the hot and dusty city, with its thousands of sweltering
inhabitants, and flying through green woods, among towering hills and
beside flashing waters.

It is not more true that "man proposes but God disposes," of any other
series of events in life than railroad connections. That Albany
express-train on the Hudson-River Road, dashed merrily on for the
Highlands, meeting excursion-trains passing backwards and forwards
between the various towns on the line, all decked with flags, and
evergreens, and the passengers in all waving flags and shouting out
their patriotic merriment. Already the Highlands of the Hudson were
rising close before them, with the westering sun sinking low and casting
broad shadows from their tops over the quiet river,--when suddenly, a
little below Peekskill, the train came to a halt, without any station
appearing in view.

"What is the matter?" asked s