she was a finished and selfish traveler; and although she did not belong
to that absolutely unendurable class, who occupy room that is not
theirs until a conductor interferes, she yet regularly appropriated and
kept the extra seat engaged with her flounces until she was asked
outright to vacate it by one more determined than the rest. She hated
company and avoided it when possible. Flossy Shipley was willing, nay,
ready, to give up her extra seat the moment a person of the right sort
appeared; not simply a cleanly, respectable individual--they might pass
by the dozens--but one who attracted her, who was elegantly dressed and
stylish looking. Flossy would endure being crowded if only the person
who did it was stylish. Miss Wilbur was indifferent to the whole race of
human beings; she cared as little as possible whether a well-dressed
lady stood or sat; so far as she was concerned they were apt to do the
former. She neither frowned nor smiled when the time came that she was
obliged to move; she simply _moved_, with as unconcerned and indifferent
a face as she had worn all the due. As for Eurie Mitchell, she took an
entire seat, as she did most other things, from pure heedlessness; any
one was welcome who wanted to sit with her, and whether it was a servant
girl or a princess was a matter of no moment. These various shades of
feeling were nearly as fully expressed in their faces as though they had
spoken; and yet they did not in the least comprehend their own actions.
This is only an illustration; it was so in a hundred little nothings
during the day. Not a window was raised or closed for their benefit, not
a turn of a blind made, that a close student of human nature could not
have seen the distinct and ruling differences in their temperaments, no
matter from what point of the compass they started. In the course of
time they reached East Buffalo.

"Now for our dinners!" Eurie said, as the whistle shrieked a warning
that the station was being neared. "What are we going to do?"