"Does he? _Does he_?" repeated the young man, laughing. "I say, Lisa!--"

Elizabeth took no notice of her brother's teasing tone. Nor did her
voice, as she proceeded to read him the letter she held in her hand,
throw any light upon her own feelings with regard to it.

The weary day passed. The emigrants were consoled by free meals; and the
delicate baby throve on the Swede's ravished milk. For the rest, the
people in the various trains made rapid acquaintance with each other;
bridge went merrily in more than one car, and the general inconvenience
was borne with much philosophy, even by Gaddesden. At last, when
darkness had long fallen, the train to which the private car was
attached moved slowly forward amid cheers of the bystanders.

Elizabeth and her brother were on the observation platform, with the
Canadian, whom with some difficulty they had persuaded to share
their dinner.

"I told you"--said Anderson--"that you would be passed over first." He
pointed to two other trains in front that had been shunted to make
room for them.

Elizabeth turned to him a little proudly.

"But I should like to say--it's not for our own sakes--not in the
least!--it is for my father, that they are so polite to us."

"I know--of course I know!" was the quick response. "I have been talking
to some of our staff," he went on, smiling. "They would do anything for
you. Perhaps you don't understand. You are the guests of the railway.