"Which train, boss?" asked the porter who had meekly followed. Train? I had forgotten about trains. The mention of the subject distracted my attention for the moment from the _Loreleien_, stirred my drugged sense of duty, and reminded me that I had trunks to check. My suggestion that I leave them briefly for this purpose was lightly brushed aside. "Oh, no!" they cried. "We shall go with you." I gave in at once--one always does with them--and inquired of the porter the location of the baggage room. He looked somewhat fatigued as he replied: "It's away back there where we come from, boss." It was a long walk; in a garden, with no train to catch, it would have been delightful. "Got your tickets?" suggested the porter as we passed the row of grilled windows. He had evidently concluded that I was irresponsible. As I had them, we continued on our way, and presently achieved the baggage room, where they stood talking and laughing, telling me of the morning's shopping expedition--hat-hunting, they called it--in the rain. I fancy that we might have been there yet had not a baggageman, perhaps divining that I had become a little bit distrait and that I had business to transact, rapped smartly on the iron counter with his punch and demanded: "Baggage checked?" Turning, not without reluctance, from a pair of violet eyes and a pair of the most mysterious gray, I began to fumble in my pockets for the claim checks. "How long shall you stay in Baltimore?" asked the girl with the gray eyes. "Yes, indeed!" I answered, still searching for the checks. "That doesn't make sense," remarked the blue-eyed girl as I found the checks and handed them to the baggageman. "She asked how long you'd stay in Baltimore, and you said: 'Yes, indeed.'" "About a week I meant to say." "Oh, I don't believe a week will be enough," said Gray-eyes. "We can't stay longer," I declared. "We must keep pushing on. There are so many places in the South to see." "My sister has just been there, and she--" "Where to?" demanded the insistent baggageman. "Why, Baltimore, of course," I said. Had he paid attention to our conversation he might have known. "You were saying," reminded Violet-eyes, "that your sister--?" "She just came home from there, and says that--" "Railroad ticket!" said the baggageman with exaggerated patience. I began again to feel in various pockets. "She says," continued Gray-eyes, "that she never met more charming people or had better things to eat. She loves the southern accent too." I don't know how the tickets got into my upper right vest pocket; I never carry tickets there; but that is where I found them. "Do you like it?" asked the other girl of me. "Like what?" "Why, the southern accent." "Any valuation?" the baggageman demanded. "Yes," I answered them both at once. "Oh, you _do_?" cried Violet-eyes, incredulously. "Why, yes; I think--"