"How do I know? 'Cause I saw their pass before you was up this morning,
cully. It's for Mrs. Captain Rayner and sister, and they're going out
here to Fort Warrener. That's how I know." And the porter of the car had
confirmed the statement in the sanctity of the smoking-room.
And yet--such is the uncertainty of feminine temperament--Mrs. Rayner
was no more incensed at the commercial "gent" because he had obtruded
his attentions than she was at the young man reading in his own section
because he had refrained. Nearly twenty-four hours had elapsed since
they crossed the Missouri, and in all that time not once had she
detected in him a glance that betrayed the faintest interest in her,
or--still more remarkable--in the unquestionably lovely girl at her
side. Intrusiveness she might resent, but indifference she would and
did. Who was this youth, she wondered, who not once had so much as
stolen a look at the sweet, bonny face of her maiden sister? Surely
'twas a face any man would love to gaze upon,--so fair, so exquisite in
contour and feature, so pearly in complexion, so lovely in the deep,
dark brown of its shaded eyes.
The bold glances of the four card-players she had defiantly returned,
and vanquished. Those men, like the travelling gents, were creatures of
coarser mould; but her experienced eye told her the solitary occupant of
the opposite section was a gentleman. The clear cut of his pale
features, the white, slender hand and shapely foot, the style and finish
of his quiet travelling-dress, the soft modulation and refined tone of
his voice on the one occasion when she heard him reply to some
importunity of the train-boy with his endless round of equally
questionable figs and fiction, the book he was reading,--a volume of
Emerson,--all combined to speak of a culture and position equal to her
own. She had been over the trans-continental railways often enough to
know that it was permissible for gentlemen to render their
fellow-passengers some slight attention which would lead to mutual
introductions if desirable; and this man refused to see that the
opportunity was open to him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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