I looked at the few people I could see over the high sections. Three women were opposite to me, two of them young. I found myself calculating the cost of their dresses and accessories, their furs and hats. I reckoned the amount to be something like my wages on the farm for six years. How easily and unconsciously they wore their good clothes! One of the two younger held my attention. She was fair, slender, long-throated, and carried herself with noticeable erectness. I caught bits of their conversation carried on in low pleasing voices: "It will be such a surprise to them." "... the C. P. steamer--" "Oh, fancy! They must have known--" "... you know I am glad to be at home this winter..." "Where is it? ..." "Somewhere in Richelieu-en-Bas--" I was all ears. Richelieu-en-Bas was my destination. Their voices were so low I could catch but little more. "Just fancy! But you would never know from him--" "When is Mr. Ewart coming over?" "Bess!" The fair one held up a warning finger; "your voice carries so." She rose and reached for her furs from the hook. "Let's go into the forward car and see the Ellwicks." The others rose too; shook themselves out a little; patted hair rolls, changed a hairpin, took down their furs and left the car--tall graceful women, all of them. Since my illness I had squeezed out from my earnings enough for the passage money, fourteen dollars, and eight besides. I did n't want to begin by being indebted to any one in the Seigniory of Lamoral for that amount; and I did n't want it deducted from my first wages. I pleased myself with the fancy that, soon after my arrival, I should give the money into some one's hands with an appropriate word or two, to the effect that I had chosen to pay my own travelling expenses. That sounded better than passage money which was reminiscent of the steerage. They should understand that if I were at service, I had a little moneyed independence of my own--the pitiful eight dollars with which to go out into the new country. Immigrants have come in with less than this--nor been deported. Well, I ran no risk of being deported from Canada. I asked the porter to make my berth early. About nine I lay down, tired and worn out with the excitement of the past three weeks. I drew the curtains close to shut out the night, and lay there passively content, listening to the steadily accented _clankity-clank-clank_ of the Montreal night express. I liked the sound; it soothed me. This swift on-rush into the night towards Canada, the even motion, began to rest the long over-strained nerves. During these hours, at least, I was care free. I slept. For the first time for months that sleep was long, unbroken, dreamless. I awoke refreshed, strengthened. Drawing the window curtains aside, I looked out upon a world newly bathed in the early morning lights.