"You have named me," she answered, smiling. "I am Mary Remington."

"But that is not your real name."

"You may call me Mary if you like," she said. "Now go, please, quick! I'm
afraid you'll get hurt."

"You will remember that I am your friend?"

"Yes, thank you. Hurry, please!"

The train paused long enough for him to step in front of her window and
wave his hat in salute. Then she passed on into the night, and only two
twinkling lights, like diminishing red berries, marked the progress of the
train until it disappeared in the cut. Nothing was left but the hollow
echoes of its going, which the hills gave back.

[Illustration]




IV


Dunham listened as long as his ear could catch the sound, then a strange
desolation settled down upon him. How was it that a few short hours ago he
had known nothing, cared nothing, about this stranger? And now her going
had left things blank enough! It was foolish, of course--just highly