She was leaning her head back against the side of the car, her face concealed by her veil. “Miss,” said Sammy’s mother, gently touching her on the shoulder, “excuse me for waking you, but we’re just ’most at my stoppin’-off place, and I didn’t like to go without sayin’ good-by to you.” “No, that was right; I was not asleep,” said Floy, putting aside her veil and offering her hand, tears springing to her eyes, while a beautiful smile played about her lips. “I can never thank you enough for what you have told me to-day.” “La sakes! ’tain’t nothin’ to thank me for,” returned the kind-hearted creature, grasping the soft little hand warmly in hers hardened by honest toil; “you’re as welcome as can be, and Sammy and me’s a thousand times obliged for the good dinner you give us. Well, I hope you’ll find your mother, miss, and when you do won’t you let me know? Just drop a line to Mrs. Sam Dobbs, Clearfield, and I’ll be sure to git it.” “Wildbrier!” shouted the conductor at the door, and Mrs. Dobbs hurried from the car. The morning’s detention, causing more than one failure in making connections, brought several vexatious delays--long hours of tedious waiting in depots in the loneliness of a crowd, and with few appliances for comfort. But Floy felt no temptation to fret or murmur; all this was so infinitesimal a price to pay for what she had gained. When the train reached Chicago it was five o’clock in the morning, and still dark. No one to meet Floy, and she so utterly strange to the city that she knew not which way to turn to find the street and number given her as the address of Mrs. Sharp, whose apprentice she was to be. No express agent had come on the train to attend to the delivery of baggage; not a hack nor an omnibus was in waiting. She was looking this way and that in search of one, when a young man of rough exterior but kindly, honest face, as she could see by the light of a lamp near by, stepped up with the question: “Any baggage, miss?” “Yes; can you tell me where to find an omnibus or hack?” “No, miss, there’s none here; they come to meet the regular trains, but this un’s out o’ time--about three hours behind.” “Then what am I to do?” she asked in perplexity. “Well, miss, I’ll take your trunk wherever it’s to go, and if you like you can just go along in the express wagon. ’Tain’t as suitable for you as a nice carriage, to be sure, but it’ll carry you safe and comfortable. Where’s the place?” Floy gave him the number and street, and, accepting his offer with thanks as the best she could do under the circumstances, mounted to her elevated perch on the front seat, the young man giving her the assistance of his hand. She saw her trunk placed behind her in the wagon, and presently found herself being driven rapidly through the almost deserted streets, for the city was but just beginning to rouse from its slumbers.