A few moments later she appeared--wholly unconscious of what had
happened. A glance down the track and her face was the picture
of despair.

Then she saw him coming toward her with long strides, flushed and
excited. Regardless of appearances, conditions or consequences,
she hurried to meet him.

"Where is the train?" she gasped, as the distance between them
grew short, her blue eyes seeking his beseechingly, her hands
clasped.

"It has gone."

"Gone? And we--we are left?"

He nodded, delighted by the word "we."

"The conductor said thirty minutes; it has been but twenty," she
cried, half tearfully, half angrily, looking at her watch. "Oh,
what shall I do?" she went on, distractedly. He had enjoyed the
sweet, despairing tones, but this last wail called for manly and
instant action.

"Can we catch the train? We must! I will give one thousand
dollars. I must catch it." She had placed her gloved hand
against a telegraph pole to steady her trembling, but her face
was resolute, imperious, commanding.

She was ordering him to obey as she would have commanded a slave.