Well, that was another success. The world is round, and like a ball seems
swinging in the air, and swinging very pleasantly, thought Henderson, as
he stepped on board the train that evening. The world is truly what you
make it, and Henderson was determined to make it agreeable. His
philosophy was concise, and might be hung up, as a motto: Get all you
can, and don't fret about what you cannot get.
He went into the smoking compartment, and sat musing by the window for
some time before he lit his cigar, feeling a glow of happiness that was
new in his experience. The country was charming at twilight, but he was
little conscious of that. What he saw distinctly was Margaret's face,
trustful and wistful, looking up into his as she bade him goodby. What he
was vividly conscious of was being followed, enveloped, by a woman's
love.
"You will write, dear, the moment you get there, will you not? I am so
afraid of accidents," she had said.
"Why, I will telegraph, sweet," he had replied, quite gayly.
"Will you? Telegraph? I never had that sort of a message." It seemed a
very wonderful thing that he should use the public wire for this purpose,
and she looked at him with new admiration.
"Are you timid about the train?" he asked.
"No. I never think of it. I never thought of it for myself; but this is
different."
"Oh, I see." He put his arm round her and looked down into her eyes. This
was a humorous suggestion to him, who spent half his time on the trains.
"I think I'll take out an accident policy."
"Don't say that. But you men are so reckless. Promise you won't stand on
the platform, and won't get off while the train is in motion, and all the
rest of the directions," she said, laughing a little with him; "and you
will be careful?"
"I'll take such care of myself as I never did before, I promise. I never
felt of so much consequence in my life."
"You'll think me silly. But you know, don't you, dear?" She put a hand on
each shoulder, and pushing him back, studied his face. "You are all the
world. And only to think, day before yesterday, I didn't think of the
trains at all."
To have one look like that from a woman! To carry it with him! Henderson
still forgot to light his cigar.
"Hello, Rodney!"
"Ah, Hollowell! I thought you were in Kansas City."
The new-comer was a man of middle age, thick set, with rounded shoulders,
deep chest, heavy neck, iron-gray hair close cut, gray whiskers cropped
so as to show his strong jaw, blue eyes that expressed at once resolution
and good-nature.
"Well, how's things? Been up to fix the Legislature?"
"No; Perkins is attending to that," said Henderson, rather indifferently,
like a man awakened out of a pleasant dream. "Don't seem to need much
fixing. The public are fond of parallels."