The physician still knelt beside her, and Gordon, with time now to think, began to reflect on the possible consequences of his deeds. With anxious face, he stood watching, reflecting bitterly that he might not claim even a look of recognition from those sweet eyes, and wishing with all his heart that his marriage had been genuine. A passing memory of his morning ride to New York in company with Miss Bentley’s conjured vision brought wonder to his eyes. It all seemed so long ago, and so strange that he ever could have entertained for a moment the thought of marrying Julia. She was a good girl of course, fine and handsome and all that,--but--and here his eyes sought the sweet sad face on the couch, and his heart suffered in a real agony for the trouble he saw; and for the trouble he must yet give to her when he told her who he was, or rather who he was not; for he must tell her and that soon. It would not do to go on in her company--nor to Chicago! And yet, how was he possibly to leave her in this condition? But no revelations were to be given that night. The physician administered another draught, and ordered the porter to make up the berth immediately. Then with skilful hands and strong arms he laid the young girl in upon the pillows and made her comfortable, Gordon meanwhile standing awkwardly by with averted eyes and troubled mien. He would have liked to help, but he did not know how. “She’d better not be disturbed any more than is necessary to-night,” said the doctor, as he pulled the pretty cloth travelling gown smoothly down about the girl’s ankles and patted it with professional hands. “Don’t let her yield to any nonsense about putting up her hair, or taking off that frock for fear she’ll rumple it. She needs to lie perfectly quiet. It’s a case of utter exhaustion, and I should say a long strain of some kind--anxiety, worry perhaps.” He looked keenly at the sheepish bridegroom. “Has she had any trouble?” Gordon lifted honest eyes. “I’m afraid so,” he answered contritely, as if it must have been his fault some way. “Well, don’t let her have any more,” said the elder man briskly. “She’s a very fragile bit of womanhood, young man, and you’ll have to handle her carefully or she’ll blow away. Make her _happy_, young man! People can’t have too much happiness in this world. It’s the best thing, after all, to keep them well. Don’t be afraid to give her plenty.” “Thank you!” said Gordon, fervently, wishing it were in his power to do what the physician ordered. The kindly physician, the assiduous porter, and the brusque but good-hearted conductor went away at last, and Gordon was left with his precious charge, who to all appearances was sleeping quietly. The light was turned low and the curtains of the berth were a little apart. He could see the dim outline of drapery about her, and one shadowy hand lying limp at the edge of the couch, in weary relaxation.