Nick was silent for a moment. The dining-car was full, and the waiters all busy. No one had come to take Mrs. May's order. Gathering his mental forces he resolved upon honesty as the best and only policy. "'Twould be easy enough to say it had nothing to do with you; that I'd have been travelling by this train to-day, anyhow," he began bravely. "The fact is, I came on board meanin' to try and make you think so, without exactly tellin' lies. But you've asked me a straight question, and I've just got to answer it straight, even if you refuse to speak to me ever again. I'm here because you're here, Mrs. May. But I promise I won't trouble you. And maybe you won't believe me, after my tellin' you this, but it's true; I didn't intend ever to let you see me to-night, and maybe not the whole journey. I only wanted to be on the same train and then, supposin' you should happen to need help any way, I'd be ready." "But--that's rather too much self-sacrifice," said Angela, looking him full in the face with her dark-lashed, slate-gray eyes. "I'm not alone. I have my maid. I shan't need help." "I guess you know I'm not making a self-sacrifice," Nick said honestly. "I'd be gladder than glad to do anything for the first angel I ever met on earth. But please don't be worrying, Mrs. May. This ain't any hold-up. I won't come near you, unless you happen to need a man to look after you. I'll fade away this minute, if----" "Certainly not!" cried Angela. "It was your table before it was mine. But--I don't understand yet. I think it would have been better if you'd finished your visit to New Orleans." "I was sure there for the same reason I'm here," Nick blurted out. "I guess I have to tell you the whole thing now." "You mean--you came to New Orleans because I----" "Yes, that's right," he finished for her, when she paused, at a loss for words. "Something made me do it. Something stronger than I am. You were a kind of dissolving view, and I couldn't let it get out of my sight for good. When I heard you'd gone to New Orleans by boat----" "How did you find out?" Angela's sweet voice had a sharp edge. "In the travel bureau of the Valmont Hotel." "Ah! Was that quite--considerate?" "I know how it sounds to you. But it wasn't so bad as you think. I inquired as if from a friend of yours, a man I know out home----" "How--how _horrid_ of you! I'd rather you didn't explain any more." Angela's cheeks were bright pink, and she was more beautiful than Nick had ever seen her before, except the night of the burglar, when she had been drowned in the gold waves of her hair, the angel of his dreams. "But you may go on about the rest," she added hastily, when he was struck into silence, without being able to bring in the name of his one excuse, Mr. Henry Morehouse. "I'd better know the _worst_. When you heard where I'd gone----"