Emerson's Wife and Other Western StoriesKelly, Florence Finch
General
Emerson's Wife and Other Western Stories
Kelly, Florence Finch
Western stories
"This is my section," said Dr. Elizabeth Black; and the three women who
were convoying her down the aisle crowded around her for a last
good-bye. There was an excited flurry of talk as they hoped her
journey would be pleasant and wished they were going too; and she
heartily wished they were; and they wondered if she would find it
tiresome; and she assured them she was a good traveller; and they
charged her to write them a postal every day. Then all four had to
press into the section to make room for two men to walk past them to
the next seat.
"But they did n't get on here--they 've only been out on the platform,"
said the youngest and prettiest of the three, lowering her voice and
casting a swift glance in their direction. "They look interesting,
Doctor, and if they stay on long enough maybe you 'll scrape
acquaintance with them. When I take a long journey I always know
everybody in the car by the end of the second day."
"We must go, girls," exclaimed another. "It's time for the train to
start." Then she produced a florist's parcel, which she had been
trying to conceal in the folds of her dress, and unrolled from it a
bunch of glowing roses. Another pressed into Dr. Black's hands a book;
and the third, a box of candy.
"And here 's a magazine Dr. Wallace sent--you know she could n't
come--and we agreed not to give them to you till the very last
minute--for our last good-bye--" Her voice wavered and Dr. Black broke
in with surprised and grateful exclamations.
"The book 's a love story," said the youngest one, an apologetic note
perceptible in her voice, "but it's a pretty story, and the treatment's
interesting, and I thought you might enjoy it, for railroad travelling
always makes one feel sentimental, anyway."
"Oh, the train 's moving! Good-bye, dear!" The one who was nearest to
Dr. Black left a hurried kiss upon her cheek, the others hastily
pressed her hands, and all three scurried toward the door. Their
friend raised her window and looked out in time to wave a final
farewell as they landed safely upon the platform. As she settled back
in her seat she saw that one of the men in the next section had also
been watching for their reappearance outside. Their eyes met as she
turned from the window, relieved and smiling.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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