"Don't, please don't," begged the man beside her. "You sit here and I'll try the gatemen. Anybody'd be likely to spot a freak couple like that. Perhaps their train hasn't gone yet." A few minutes later Belinda saw him bolt into the waiting-room and stop at a ticket window. "Come on," he said, as he rushed up to her. "They've gone to Albany--train left fifteen minutes ago. Gateman thought they were funny, and noticed their tickets. He says the girl was crying. We'll have to step lively." "B-b-but what are we going to do?" stammered Belinda, as he hurried her through the gate and down the long platform. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. We're going to Albany on the Chicago Express." He helped her on the train, deposited her in a seat on the shady side of a Pullman car, sat down beside her and fanned his flushed face with his cap. Belinda strove for speech, but no words came. Things appeared to be altogether out of her hands. "They took a local express," explained the stranger by whom she was being personally conducted. "Afraid to wait in the station, I suppose. Our train passes theirs up the road, and we'll wait for them in Albany." "But perhaps they'll get off before they reach Albany," replied Belinda. "Well, their tickets were for Albany, and we'll have to gamble on that. It's a fair chance. Probably they want to lose themselves somewhere until the storm blows over and papa makes terms." "But why should you go to Albany? You've been awfully good and I'm so much obliged to you, but now I'll just go on by myself." He looked down at the independent young woman, and the familiar smile came back into his eyes. "That would be a nice proposition. I can see a life-size picture of myself letting you go up to Albany alone to handle De Puys. A chap like that needs a man. You can get the girl. I wouldn't attempt to handle her without a derrick, but I'll just make a few well-chosen remarks to that rascally Frenchman myself." "But it is an imposition upon----" "Nothing of the sort. It's an interposition--of Providence. I've spent weeks wondering how it could ever be done." Belinda looked puzzled. "You knew they were going to elope?" "No, that wasn't what I meant." "It's dreadful, isn't it?" wailed Belinda. He shook his head. "It's heavenly," he said. She tried to look puzzled again, but broke down, blushed, and became absorbed in the landscape. "My name is Morgan Hamilton." She shot a swift look at him, then turned to the window again. "I'm Miss Carewe, one of Miss Ryder's teachers." "Yes; I knew you weeks ago." Belinda lost her grasp upon her dignity and laughed. "Then it isn't like going to Albany with a perfect stranger," she said with an air of profound relief.