She reached the station just in time--merely had her ticket bought when
the train steamed in--and making her way among the crowds of men, she was
able to reach a seat in one of the coaches where a few women were
scattered in with the many gentlemen who patronized the express.

She had unconsciously followed the one woman who boarded the train at
North Birchland, and now took the same seat--the other getting close to
the window and leaving the half seat free for Dorothy.

It was some moments before the girl chanced to look up and observe her
companion. When she did so, she was startled to find her none other than
the little woman in black.

The stranger seemed to note Dorothy's surprise, and turned directly to
her.

"We meet again," she said pleasantly, in a voice Dorothy thought at once
cultured and peculiarly sweet.

"Yes," replied Dorothy, also smiling. Surely she and Tavia had been
mistaken in their unkind opinion of this little body.

"I go into the city almost daily," continued the woman, "and now, in the
busy time, I try to make this early train. I do so dislike to get in the
dense crowd."

"It is unpleasant," said Dorothy a little guiltily, for at each word the
woman spoke she felt more positive this gentle person could never be what
they had supposed her--a shoplifter.