It certainly was not an ideal way of travelling, this new style of “gravity” road, but it landed them without delay, though much shaken and scratched, and divested of every vestige of dignity. It was impossible not to laugh, and Celia’s voice rang out merrily, showing that she had not always wept and looked sorrowful. “Are you much hurt?” asked Gordon anxiously, holding her hands and looking down at her tenderly. Before she could reply, the express train roared above them, drowning their voices and laughter; and when it was past they saw their own train take up its interrupted way grumblingly, and rapidly move off. If the passengers on those two trains had not been deeply wrapped in slumber, they might have been surprised to see two fashionably attired young persons, with hats awry and clasped hands, laughing in a country road at five o’clock of a May morning. But only one was awake, and by the time the two in the road below remembered to look up and take notice, the trains were rapidly disappearing. The girl had been deeply impressed with Gordon’s solicitude for her. It was so out of keeping with his letters. He had never seemed to care whether she suffered or not. In all the arrangements, he had said what _he_ wanted, indeed what he _would have_, with an implied threat in the framing of his sentence in case she dared demur. Never had there been the least expression of desire for her happiness. Therefore it was something of a surprise to find him so gentle and thoughtful of her. Perhaps, after all, he would not prove so terrible to live with as she had feared. And yet--how could anyone who wrote those letters have any alleviating qualities? It could not be. She must harden herself against him. Still, if he would be outwardly decent to her, it would make her lot easier, of course. But her course of mental reasoning was broken in upon by his stout denunciations of himself. “I ought not to have allowed you to slide down there,” he declared. “It was terrible, after what you went through last night. I didn’t realize how steep and rough it was. Indeed I didn’t. I don’t see how you ever can forgive me.” “Why, I’m not hurt,” she said gently, astonished at his solicitation. There was a strange lump in her throat brought by his kindness, which threatened tears. Just why should kindness from an unexpected quarter bring tears? “I’m only a little shaken up,” she went on as she saw a real anxiety in his brown eyes, “and I don’t mind it in the least. I think it was rather fun, don’t you?” A faint glimmer of a smile wavered over the corners of her mouth, and Gordon experienced a sudden desire to take her in his arms and kiss her. It was a strange new feeling. He had never had any such thought about Julia Bentley. “Why, I--why, yes, I guess so, if you’re sure you’re not hurt.” “Not a bit,” she said, and then, for some unexplained reason, they both began to laugh. After that they felt better.