it for granted that the right Henley knew all about it, which he
doubtless did; but, since he was dead, it was awkward to consult him,
especially about a matter which was manifestly a private affair of
his own. But where was Guir? In all the vast State of Virginia, how
was he to discover an insignificant station, doubtless unknown to New
York ticket agents, and perhaps not even familiar to those living
within twenty miles of it? Paul opened the atlas at the "Old
Dominion," and threw it down again in disgust. "A map of the infernal
regions would be as useful," he declared. However important Guir
might be to the Guirs, it was clearly of no importance to the world.
But the following day the Postal Guide revealed the secret, and the
railway officials confirmed and located it. Guir was situated in a
remote part of the State, upon an obscure road, far removed from any
of the trunk lines. Mr. Henley purchased his ticket, resolved to take
the first train for this _terra incognita_ of Virginia.

The train drew up at the station. Yes, there was the piebald horse,
and there was the cart with the gory wheels, and there--yes,
certainly, there was Dorothy, a slender, nervous-looking girl of
twenty, standing at the horse's head! Be she what she might,
politically, socially, or morally, Mr. Henley decided at the first
glance that she would do. With a flourish of his crimson handkerchief
he stepped out upon the platform. "Rash man! You have put your foot
in it," he soliloquized, "and you may never, _never_ be able to take
it out again." But he could as soon have passed the open doors of
Paradise unheeded as Dorothy Guir at that moment.

"Mr. Henley! So glad!" said the girl in recognition of the young
man's hesitating and somewhat prolonged bow. "He's a little afraid of
the engine," she continued, alluding now to the horse, "so if you