thought. It, had been a ballet of light, shimmering colors, until
suddenly a troop of birds in royal purple had slashed their way down
the center of the stage. They brought the same glorified thrill of
contrast as this soft but strong contralto voice proceeding from that
delicate blondness.

"Oh, no!" she said, "I never saw her before. She was swaying as I came
down the aisle, and I caught her. She's--she's awake." The old woman
had stirred again.

"Get my bag from seat 12, parlor-car," said Dr. Blake to the porter.
"Tell them outside that it is a simple fainting-spell and we shall need
no assistance." Now his charity patient had recovered voice; she was
moaning and whimpering. The girl, obeying again Dr. Blake's unspoken
thought, took a quick step toward the door. He understood without
further word from her.

"All right," he said; "she may want to discuss symptoms. You're on the
way to the dining-car aren't you? I'll be along in five minutes, and
I'll let you know how she is. Tell them outside that it is nothing
serious and have the porter stand by--please." That last word of
politeness came out on an afterthought--he had been addressing her in
the capacity of a trained nurse. He recognized this with confusion, and
he apologized by a smile which illuminated his rather heavy, dark face.
She answered with the ghost of a smile--it moved her eyes rather than
her mouth--and the door closed.

After five minutes of perfunctory examination and courteous attention
to symptoms, he tore himself away from his patient upon the pretext
that she needed quiet. He wasted three more golden minutes in assuring