"I'm sure I don't know," asserted Mary Leonard, with conviction, "but fortunately he didn't." "He got very warm," said Lucy, reminiscently. "I saw him wiping his brow as we came away." "I don't blame him the least in the world. I think he was a wonderfully nice baggageman, for men of that class are so apt to swear when they get very warm,--at least, so I've heard. And did you hear--" "Tickets, ma'am," observed the conductor. "There, I didn't mean to keep you waiting a minute;" and Mary Leonard opened her pocketbook, "but I forgot all about the tickets. Oh, Lucy, I gave you the tickets, and I took the checks." "Yes, to be sure," said Lucy, opening her pocketbook. "I'll put them in the seat for you, ladies, like this," said the conductor, smiling, "and then you won't have any more trouble." "Oh, yes, thank you," said Lucy Eastman. "What a nice conductor!" observed Mary Leonard. "Did I hear what, Mary?--you were telling me something." "Oh, about the baggageman. I heard him say to his assistant, 'Don't you ever git mad with women, Bobby. It ain't no use. If it was always the same woman and the same trunk, perhaps you could learn her sometime; but it ain't, and you've got to take 'em just as they come, and get rid of 'em the best way you can--they don't bear instruction.'" Mary Leonard and Lucy Eastman threw back their heads and laughed; it was genuine, low, fresh laughter, and a good thing to hear. After that there was silence for a few moments as the train sped on its way. "I declare," said Mary Leonard, at last, "I don't know when I've been in the cars before." "I was just thinking I haven't been in the cars since Sister Eliza died, and we all went to the funeral," said Lucy Eastman. "Why, that's--let me see--eight years ago, isn't it?" "Eight and a half." "Well, I'm glad you'll have a pleasanter trip to look back on after this." "So am I; and I am enjoying this--every minute of it. Only there's so much to see. Just look at the people looking out of the windows of that manufactory! Shouldn't you think they'd roast?" "Yes, they must be hotter than a fritter such a day as this." "How long is it since you've been to Englefield, Mary?" asked Lucy Eastman, after another pause. "Why, that's what I meant to tell you. Do you know, after I saw you, and we decided to go there for our holiday, I began to think it over, and I haven't been there since we went together the last time." "Why, Mary Leonard! I had an idea you'd been there time and again, though you said you hadn't seen the old place for a long time." "Well, I was surprised myself when I realized it. But the next year my cousins all moved away, and I've thought of it over and over, but I haven't _been_. I dare say if we'd lived in the same town we'd have gone together before this, but we haven't, and there it is." "That's thirty-five years ago, Mary," said Lucy Eastman, thoughtfully.