CAR FORTY-SEVEN.
It is they who stay behind who suffer most from leave-takings. Those who
go have the continual change of scenes and impressions to help them to
forget; those who remain must bear as best they may the dull heavy sense
of loss and separation.
The parting at Burnet was not a cheerful one. Clover was oppressed with
the nearness of untried responsibilities; and though she kept up a brave
face, she was inwardly homesick. Phil slept badly the night before the
start, and looked so wan and thin as he stood on the steamer's deck beside
his sisters, waving good-by to the party on the wharf, that a new and
sharp thrill of anxiety shot through his father's heart. The boy looked so
young and helpless to be sent away ill among strangers, and round-faced
little Clover seemed such a fragile support! There was no help for it. The
thing was decided on, decided for the best, as they all hoped; but Dr.
Carr was not at all happy in his mind as he watched the steamer become a
gradually lessening speck in the distance, and he sighed heavily when at
last he turned away.
Elsie echoed the sigh. She, too, had noticed Phil's looks and papa's
gravity, and her heart felt heavy within her. The house, when they reached
it, seemed lonely and empty. Papa went at once to his office, and they
heard him lock the door. This was such an unusual proceeding in the middle
of the morning that she and Johnnie opened wide eyes of dismay at each
other.
"Is papa crying, do you suppose?" whispered John.
"No, I don't think it can be _that_. Papa never does cry; but I'm afraid
he's feeling badly," responded Elsie, in the same hushed tone. "Oh, dear,
how horrid it is not even to have Clover at home! What _are_ we going to
do without her and Katy?"
"I don't know I'm sure. You can't think how queer I feel, Elsie,--just as
if my heart had slipped out of its place, and was going down, down into my
boots. I think it must be the way people feel when they are homesick. I
had it once before when I was at Inches Mills, but never since then. How I
wish Philly had never gone to skate on that nasty pond!" and John burst
into a passion of tears.
"Oh, don't, don't!" cried poor Elsie, for Johnnie's sobs were infectious,
and she felt an ominous lump coming into her own throat, "don't behave so,
Johnnie. Think if papa came out, and found us crying! Clover particularly
said that we must make the house bright for him. I'm going to sow the
mignonette seed [desperately]; come and help me. The trowel is on the back
porch, and you might get Dorry's jack-knife and cut some little sticks to
mark the places."
This expedient was successful. Johnnie, who loved to "whittle" above all
things, dried her tears, and ran for her shade hat; and by the time the
tiny brown seeds were sprinkled into the brown earth of the borders, both
the girls were themselves again. Dr. Carr appeared from his retirement
half an hour later. A note had come for him meanwhile, but somehow no one
had quite liked to knock at the door and deliver it.
Elsie handed it to him now, with a timid, anxious look, whose import
seemed to strike him, for he laughed a little, and pinched her cheek as he
read.
"I've been writing to Dr. Hope about the children," he said; "that's all.
Don't wait dinner for me, chicks. I'm off for the Corners to see a boy
who's had a fall, and I'll get a bite there. Order something good for tea,
Elsie; and afterward we'll have a game of cribbage if I'm not called out.
We must be as jolly as we can, or Clover will scold us when she comes
back."
Meanwhile the three travellers were faring through the first stage of
their journey very comfortably. The fresh air and change brightened Phil;
he ate a good dinner, and afterward took quite a long nap on a sofa,
Clover sitting by to keep him covered and see that he did not get cold.
Late in the evening they changed to the express train, and there again,
Phil, after being tucked up behind the curtains of his section, went to
sleep and passed a satisfactory night, so that he reached Chicago looking
so much better than when they left Burnet that his father's heart would
have been lightened could he have seen him.
Mrs. Ashe came down to the station to meet them, together with Mr.
Dayton,--a kind, friendly man with a tired but particularly pleasant face.
All the necessary transfer of baggage, etc., was made easy, and they were
carried off at once to the hotel where rooms had been secured. There they
were rapturously received by Amy, and introduced to Mrs. Dayton, a sweet,
spirited little matron, with a face as kindly as her husband's, but not so
worn. Mr. Dayton looked as if for years he had been bearing the whole
weight of a railroad on his shoulders, as in one sense it may be said that
he had.
"We have been here almost a whole day," said Amy, who had taken
possession, as a matter of course, of her old perch on Katy's knee.
"Chicago is the biggest place you ever saw, Tanta; but it isn't so pretty
as Burnet. And oh! don't you think Car Forty-seven is nice,--the one we
are going out West in, you know? And this morning Mr. Dayton took us to
see it. It's the cunningest place that ever was. There's one dear little
drawer in the wall that Mrs. Dayton says I may have to keep Mabel's things
in. I never saw a drawer in a car before. There's a lovely little bedroom
too, and such a nice washing-basin, and a kitchen, and all sorts of
things. I can hardly wait till I show them to you. Don't you think that
travelling is the most delightful thing in the world, Miss Clover?"
"Yes--if only--people--don't get too tired," said Clover, with an anxious
glance at Phil, as he lay back in an easy-chair. She did not dare say,
"if Phil doesn't get too tired," for she had already discovered that
nothing annoyed him so much as being talked about as an invalid, and that
he was very apt to revenge himself by doing something imprudent
immediately afterward, to disguise from an observant world the fact that
he couldn't do it without running a risk. Like most boys, he resented
being "fussed over,"--a fact which made the care of him more difficult
than it would otherwise have been.
The room which had been taken for Clover and Katy looked out on the lake,
which was not far away; and the reach of blue water would have made a
pretty view if trains of cars had not continually steamed between it and
the hotel, staining the sky and blurring the prospect with their smokes.
Katy wondered how it happened that the early settlers who laid out Chicago
had not bethought themselves to secure this fine water frontage as an
ornament to the future city; but Mr. Dayton explained that in the rapid
growth of Western towns, things arranged themselves rather than were
arranged for, and that the first pioneers had other things to think about
than what a New Englander would call "sightliness,"--and Katy could easily
believe this to be true.
Car Forty-seven was on the track when they drove to the station at noon
next day. It was the end car of a long express train, which, Mr. Dayton
told them, is considered the place of honor, and generally assigned to
private cars. It was of an old-fashioned pattern, and did not compare, as
they were informed, with the palaces on wheels built nowadays for the use
of railroad presidents and directors. But though Katy heard of cars with
French beds, plunge baths, open fireplaces, and other incredible luxuries,
Car Forty-seven still seemed to her inexperienced eyes and Clover's a
marvel of comfort and convenience.
A small kitchen, a store closet, and a sort of baggage-room, fitted with
berths for two servants, occupied the end of the car nearest the engine.
Then came a dressing-closet, with ample marble basins where hot water as
well as cold was always on tap; then a wide state-room, with a bed on
either side, and then a large compartment occupying the middle of the car,
where by day four nice little dining-tables could be set, with a seat on
either side, and by night six sleeping sections made up. The rest of the
car was arranged as a sitting-room, glassed all around, and furnished with
comfortable seats of various kinds, a writing-desk, two or three tables of
different sizes, and various small lockers and receptacles, fitted into
the partitions to serve as catch-alls for loose articles of all sorts.
Bunches of lovely roses and baskets of strawberries stood on the tables;
and quite a number of the Daytons' friends had come down to see them off,
each bringing some sort of good-by gift for the travellers,--flowers,
hothouse grapes, early cherries, or home-made cake. They were all so
cordial and pleasant and so interested in Phil, that Katy and Clover lost
their hearts to each in turn, and forever afterward were ready to stand
up for Chicago as the kindest place that ever was seen.
Then amid farewells and good wishes the train moved slowly out of the
station, and the inmates of Car Forty-seven proceeded to "go to
housekeeping," as Mrs. Dayton expressed it, and to settle themselves and
their belongings in these new quarters. Mrs. Ashe and Amy, it was decided,
should occupy the state-room, and the other ladies were to dress there
when it was convenient. Sections were assigned to everybody,--Clover's
opposite Phil's so that she might hear him if he needed anything in the
night; and Mr. Dayton called for all the bonnets and hats, and amid much
laughter proceeded to pin up each in thick folds of newspaper, and fasten
it on a hook not to be taken down till the end of the journey. Mabel's
feathered turban took its turn with the rest, at Amy's particular request.
Dust was the main thing to be guarded against, and Katy, having been duly
forewarned, had gone out in the morning, and bought for herself and Clover
soft hats of whity-gray felt and veils of the same color, like those
which Mrs. Dayton and Polly had provided for the journey, and which had
the advantage of being light as well as unspoilable.
But there was no dust that first morning, as the train ran smoothly across
the fertile prairies of Illinois first, and then of Iowa, between fields
dazzling with the fresh green of wheat and rye, and waysides studded with
such wild-flowers as none of them had ever seen or dreamed of before. Pink
spikes and white and vivid blue spikes; masses of brown and orange cups,
like low-growing tulips; ranks of beautiful vetches and purple lupines;
escholtzias, like immense sweeps of golden sunlight; wild sweet peas;
trumpet-shaped blossoms whose name no one knew,--all flung broadcast over
the face of the land, and in such stintless quantities that it dazzled the
mind to think of as it did the eyes to behold them. The low-lying horizons
looked infinitely far off; the sense of space was confusing. Here and
there appeared a home-stead, backed with a "break-wind" of thickly-planted
trees; but the general impression was of vast, still distance, endless
reaches of sky, and uncounted flowers growing for their own pleasure and
with no regard for human observation.
In studying Car Forty-seven, Katy was much impressed by the thoroughness
of Mrs. Dayton's preparations for the comfort of her party. Everything
that could possibly be needed seemed to have been thought of,--pins,
cologne, sewing materials, all sorts of softening washes for the skin, to
be used on the alkaline plains, sponges to wet and fasten into the crown
of hats, other sponges to breathe through, medicines of various kinds,
sticking-plaster, witch-hazel and arnica, whisk brooms, piles of magazines
and novels, telegraph blanks, stationery. Nothing seemed forgotten. Clover
said that it reminded her of the mother of the Swiss Family Robinson and
that wonderful bag out of which everything was produced that could be
thought of, from a grand piano to a bottle of pickles; and after that
"Mrs. Robinson" became Mrs. Dayton's pet name among her
fellow-travellers. She adopted it cheerfully; and her "wonderful bag"
proving quite as unfailing and trustworthy as that of her prototype, the
title seemed justified.
Pretty soon after starting came their first dinner on the car. Such a nice
one!--soup, roast chicken and lamb, green peas, new potatoes, stewed
tomato; all as hot and as perfectly served as if they had been "on dry
land," as Amy phrased it. There was fresh curly lettuce too, with
mayonnaise dressing, and a dessert of strawberries and ice-cream,--the
latter made and frozen on the car, whose resources seemed inexhaustible.
The cook had been attached to Car Forty-seven for some years, and had a
celebrity on his own road for the preparation of certain dishes, which no
one else could do as well, however many markets and refrigerators and
kitchen ranges might be at command. One of these dishes was a peculiar
form of cracked wheat, made crisp and savory after some mysterious
fashion, and eaten with thick cream. Like most _chefs_, the cook liked to
do the things in which he excelled, and finding that it was admired, he
gave the party this delicious wheat every morning.
"The car seems paved with bottles of Apollinaris and with
lemons," wrote Katy to her father. "There seems no limit to the
supply. Just as surely as it grows warm and dusty, and we begin
to remember that we are thirsty, a tinkle is heard, and Bayard
appears with a tray,--iced lemonade, if you please, made with
Apollinaris water with strawberries floating on top! What do you
think of that at thirty miles an hour? Bayard is the colored
butler. The cook is named Roland. We have a fine flavor of peers
and paladins among us, you perceive.
"The first day out was cool and delicious, and we had no dust.
At six o'clock we stopped at a junction, and our car was
detached and run off on a siding. This was because Mr. Dayton
had business in the place, and we were to wait and be taken on
by the next express train soon after midnight. At first they ran
us down to a pretty place by the side of the river, where it was
cool, and we could look out on the water and a green bank
opposite, and we thought we were going to have such a nice
night; but the authorities changed their minds, and presently
to our deep disgust a locomotive came puffing down the road,
clawed us up, ran us back, and finally left us in the middle of
innumerable tracks and switches just where all the freight
trains came in and met. All night long they were arriving and
going out. Cars loaded with cattle, cars loaded with sheep, with
pigs! Such bleatings and mooings and gruntings, I never heard in
all my life before. I could think of nothing but that verse in
the Psalms, 'Strong bulls of Bashan have beset me round,' and
could only hope that the poor animals did not feel half as badly
as they sounded.
"Then long before light, as we lay listening to these lamentable
roarings and grunts, and quite unable to sleep for heat and
noise, came the blessed express, and presently we were away out
of all the din, with the fresh air of the prairie blowing in;
and in no time at all we were so sound asleep that it seemed but
a minute before morning. Phil's slumbers lasted so long that we
had to breakfast without him, for Mrs. Dayton would not let us
wake him up. You can't think how kind she is, and Mr. Dayton
too; and this way of travelling is so easy and delightful that
it scarcely seems to tire one at all. Phil has borne the journey
wonderfully well so far."
At Omaha, on the evening of the second day, Clover's future "matron" and
adviser, Mrs. Watson, was to join them. She had been telegraphed to from
Chicago, and had replied, so that they knew she was expecting them.
Clover's thoughts were so occupied with curiosity as to what she would
turn out to be, that she scarcely realized that she was crossing the
Mississippi for the first time, and she gave scant attention to the low
bluffs which bound the river, and on which the Indians used to hold their
councils in those dim days when there was still an "undiscovered West" set
down in geographies and atlases.
As soon as they reached the Omaha side of the river, she and Katy jumped
down from the car, and immediately found themselves face to face with an
anxious-looking little old lady, with white hair frizzled and banged over
a puckered forehead, and a pair of watery blue eyes peering from beneath,
evidently in search of somebody. Her hands were quite full of bags and
parcels, and a little heap of similar articles lay on the platform near
her, of which she seemed afraid to lose sight for a moment.
"Oh, is it Miss Carr?" was her first salutation. "I'm Mrs. Watson. I
thought it might be you, from the fact that you got out of that car, and
it seems rather different--I am quite relieved to see you. I didn't know
but something--My daughter she said to me as I was coming away, 'Now,
Mother, don't lose yourself, whatever you do. It seems quite wild to think
of you in Canyon this and Canyon that, and the Garden of the Gods! Do get
some one to keep an eye on you, or we shall never hear of you again.
You'll--' It's quite a comfort that you have got here. I supposed you
would, but the uncertainty--Oh, dear! that man is carrying off my trunks.
Please run after him and tell him to bring them back!"
"It's all right; he's the porter," explained Mr. Dayton. "Did you get your
checks for Denver or St. Helen's?"
"Oh, I haven't any checks yet. I didn't know which it ought to be, so I
waited till--Miss Carr and her brother would see to it for me I knew, and
I wrote my daughter--My friend, Mrs. Peters,--I've been staying with her,
you know,--was sick in bed, and I wouldn't let--Dear me! what has that
gentleman gone off for in such a hurry?"
"He has gone to get your checks," said Clover, divided between diversion
and dismay at this specimen of her future "matron." "We only stay here a
few minutes, I believe. Do you know exactly when the train starts, Mrs.
Watson?"
"No, dear, I don't. I never know anything about trains and things like
that. Somebody always has to tell me, and put me on the cars. I shall
trust to you and your brother to do that now. It's a great comfort to have
a gentleman to see to things for you."
A gentleman! Poor Philly!
Mr. Dayton now came back to them. It was lucky that he knew the station
and was used to the ways of railroads, for it appeared that Mrs. Watson
had made no arrangements whatever for her journey, but had blindly
devolved the care of herself and her belongings on her "young friends," as
she called Clover and Phil. She had no sleeping section secured and no
tickets, and they had to be procured at the last moment and in such a
scramble that the last of her parcels was handed on to the platform by a
porter, at full run, after the train was in motion. She was not at all
flurried by the commotion, though others were, and blandly repeated that
she knew from the beginning that all would be right as soon as Miss Carr
and her brother arrived.
Mrs. Dayton had sent a courteous invitation to the old lady to come to Car
Forty-seven for tea, but Mrs. Watson did not at all like being left alone
meantime, and held fast to Clover when the others moved to go.
"I'm used to being a good deal looked after," she explained. "All the
family know my ways, and they never do let me be alone much. I'm taken
faint sometimes; and the doctor says it's my heart or something that's
the cause of it, so my daughter she--You ain't going, my dear, are you?"
"I must look after my brother," said poor Clover; "he's been ill, you
know, and this is the time for his medicine."
"Dear me! is he ill?" said Mrs. Watson, in an aggrieved tone. "I wasn't
prepared for that. You'll have your hands pretty full with him and me
both, won't you?--for though I'm well enough just now, there's no knowing
what a day may bring forth, and you're all I have to depend upon. You're
sure you must go? It seems as if your sister--Mrs. Worthing, is that the
name?--might see to the medicine, and give you a little freedom. Don't let
your brother be too exacting, dear. It is the worst thing for a young man.
I'll sit here a little while, and then I'll--The conductor will help me, I
suppose, or perhaps that gentleman might--I hate to be left by myself."
These were the last words which Clover heard as she escaped. She entered
Car Forty-seven with such a rueful and disgusted countenance that
everybody burst out laughing.
"What is the matter, Miss Clover?" asked Mr. Dayton. "Has your old lady
left something after all?"
"Don't call her _my_ old lady! I'm supposed to be her young lady, under
her charge," said Clover, trying to smile. But the moment she got Katy to
herself, she burst out with,--
"My dear, what _am_ I going to do? It's really too dreadful. Instead of
some one to help me, which is what papa meant, Mrs. Watson seems to depend
on me to take all the care of her; and she says she has fainting fits and
disease of the heart! How can I take care of her? Phil needs me all the
time, and a great deal more than she does; I don't see how I can."
"You can't, of course. You are here to take care of Phil; and it is out of
the question that you should have another person to look after. But I
think you must mistake Mrs. Watson, Clovy. I know that Mrs. Hall wrote
plainly about Phil's illness, for she showed me the letter."
"Just wait till you hear her talk," cried the exasperated Clover. "You
will find that I didn't mistake her at all. Oh, why did Mrs. Hall
interfere? It would all seem so easy in comparison--so perfectly easy--if
only Philly and I were alone together."
Katy thought that Clover was fretted and disposed to exaggerate; but after
Mrs. Watson joined them a little later, she changed her opinion. The old
lady was an inveterate talker, and her habit of only half finishing her
sentences made it difficult to follow the meanderings of her rambling
discourse. It turned largely on her daughter, Mrs. Phillips, her husband,
children, house, furniture, habits, tastes, and the Phillips connection
generally.
"She's the only one I've got," she informed Mrs. Dayton; "so of course
she's all-important to me. Jane Phillips--that's Henry's youngest
sister--often says that really of all the women she ever knew Ellen is the
most--And there's plenty to do always, of course, with three children and
such a large elegant house and company coming all the--It's lucky that
there's plenty to do with. Henry's very liberal. He likes to have things
nice, so Ellen she--Why, when I was packing up to come away he brought me
that _repoussé_ fruit-knife there in my bag--Oh, it's in my other bag!
Never mind; I'll show it to you some other time--solid silver, you know.
Bigelow and Kennard--their things always good, though expensive; and my
son-in-law he said, 'You're going to a fruit country, and--' Mrs. Peters
doesn't think there is so much fruit, though. All sent on from California,
as I wrote,--and I guess Ellen and Henry were surprised to hear it."
Katy held serious counsel with herself that night as to what she should do
about this extraordinary "guide, philosopher, and friend" whom the Fates
had provided for Clover. She saw that her father, from very over-anxiety,
had made a mistake, and complicated Clover's inevitable cares with a most
undesirable companion, who would add to rather than relieve them. She
could not decide what was best to do; and in fact the time was short for
doing anything, for the next evening would bring them to Denver, and poor
Clover must be left to face the situation by herself as best she might.
Katy finally concluded to write her father plainly how things stood, and
beg him to set Clover's mind quite at rest as to any responsibility for
Mrs. Watson, and also to have a talk with that lady herself, and explain
matters as clearly as she could. It seemed all that was in her power.
Next day the party woke to a wonderful sense of lightness and exhilaration
which no one could account for till the conductor told them that the
apparently level plain over which they were speeding was more than four
thousand feet above the sea. It seemed impossible to believe it. Hour by
hour they climbed; but the climb was imperceptible. Now four thousand six
hundred feet of elevation was reported, now four thousand eight hundred,
at last above five thousand; and still there seemed about them nothing
but a vast expanse of flat levels,--the table-lands of Nebraska. There was
little that was beautiful in the landscape, which was principally made up
of wide reaches of sand, dotted with cactus and grease-wood and with the
droll cone-shaped burrows of the prairie-dogs, who could be seen gravely
sitting on the roofs of their houses, or turning sudden somersaults in at
the holes on top as the train whizzed by. They passed and repassed long
links of a broad shallow river which the maps showed to be the Platte, and
which seemed to be made of two-thirds sand to one-third water. Now and
again mounted horsemen appeared in the distance whom Mr. Dayton said were
"cow-boys;" but no cows were visible, and the rapidly moving figures were
neither as picturesque nor as formidable as they had expected them to be.
Flowers were still abundant, and their splendid masses gave the charm of
color to the rather arid landscape. Soon after noon dim blue outlines came
into view, which grew rapidly bolder and more distinct, and revealed
themselves as the Rocky Mountains,--the "backbone of the American
Continent," of which we have all heard so much in geographies and the
newspapers. It was delightful, in spite of dust and glare, to sit with
that sweep of magnificent air rushing into their lungs, and watch the
great ranges grow and grow and deepen in hue, till they seemed close at
hand. To Katy they were like enchanted land. Somewhere on the other side
of them, on the dim Pacific coast, her husband was waiting for her to
come, and the wheels seemed to revolve with a regular rhythmic beat to the
cadence of the old Scotch song,--
"And will I see his face again;
And will I hear him speak?"
But to Clover the wheels sang something less jubilant, and she studied the
mountains on her little travelling-map, and measured their distance from
Burnet with a sigh. They were the walls of what seemed to her a sort of
prison, as she realized that presently she should be left alone among
them, Katy and Polly gone, and these new friends whom she had learned to
like so much,--left alone with Phil and, what was worse, with Mrs. Watson!
There was a comic side to the latter situation, undoubtedly, but at the
moment she could not enjoy it.
Katy carried out her intention. She made a long call on Mrs. Watson in her
section, and listened patiently to her bemoanings over the noise of the
car which had kept her from sleeping; the "lady in gray over there" who
had taken such a long time to dress in the morning that she--Mrs.
Watson--could not get into the toilet-room at the precise moment that she
wished; the newspaper boy who would not let her "just glance over" the
Denver "Republican" unless she bought and paid for it ("and I only wanted
to see the Washington news, my dear, and something about a tin wedding in
East Dedham. My mother came from there, and I recognized one of the names
and--But he took it away quite rudely; and when I complained, the
conductor wouldn't attend to what I--"); and the bad piece of beefsteak
which had been brought for her breakfast at the eating-station. Katy
soothed and comforted to the best of her ability, and then plunged into
her subject, explaining Phil's very delicate condition and the necessity
for constant watchfulness on the part of Clover, and saying most
distinctly and in the plainest of English that Mrs. Watson must not expect
Clover to take care of her too. The old lady was not in the least
offended; but her replies were so incoherent that Katy was not sure that
she understood the matter any better for the explanation.
"Certainly, my dear, certainly. Your brother doesn't appear so very sick;
but he must be looked after, of course. Boys always ought to be. I'll
remind your sister if she seems to be forgetting anything. I hope I shall
keep well myself, so as not to be a worry to her. And we can take little
excursions together, I dare say--Girls always like to go, and of course an
older person--Oh, no, your brother won't need her so much as you think. He
seems pretty strong to me, and--You mustn't worry about them, Mrs.
Worthing--We shall all get on very well, I'm sure, provided I don't break
down, and I guess I sha'n't, though they say almost every one does in this
air. Why, we shall be as high up as the top of Mount Washington."
Katy went back to Forty-seven in despair, to comfort herself with a long
confidential chat with Clover in which she exhorted her not to let herself
be imposed upon.
"Be good to her, and make her as happy as you can, but don't feel bound to
wait on her, and run her errands. I am sure papa would not wish it; and it
will half kill you if you attempt it. Phil, till he gets stronger, is all
you can manage. You not only have to nurse him, you know, but to keep him
happy. It's so bad for him to mope. You want all your time to read with
him, and take walks and drives; that is, if there are any carriages at St.
Helen's. Don't let Mrs. Watson seize upon you, Clover. I'm awfully afraid
that she means to, and I can see that she is a real old woman of the sea.
Once she gets on your back you will never be able to throw her off."
"She shall not get on my back," said Clover, straightening her small
figure; "but doesn't it seem _unnecessary_ that I should have an old woman
of the sea to grapple with as well as Phil?"
"Provoking things are apt to seem unnecessary, I fancy. You mustn't let
yourself get worried, dear Clovy. The old lady means kindly enough, I
think, only she's naturally tiresome, and has become helpless from habit.
Be nice to her, but hold your own. Self-preservation is the first law of
Nature."
Just at dusk the train reached Denver, and the dreaded moment of parting
came. There were kisses and tearful good-byes, but not much time was
allowed for either. The last glimpse that Clover had of Katy was as the
train moved away, when she put her head far out of the window of Car
Forty-seven to kiss her hand once more, and call back, in a tone oracular
and solemn enough to suit King Charles the First, his own admonitory word,
"Remember!"