And when at last he slept, his dreams were of the old days and Justine, and how lonely he was without her--how lonely she must be down there in the cold, dark night--sick, perhaps, and longing for him. In his dream they were at Proctor's Falls, then in Chicago, then she was beside him in the bed. His arm, moved by dream love, stretched out and drew her close to his breast and there were no scores of miles between his tranquil heart and that of the girl he worshiped. CHAPTER XIV. "MY TRUEST COMRADE." He looked forward to the meeting with Miss Wood as if it were to be one of the epochs in his life. An odd fear took possession of him--cowardice, inspired by the knowledge that he was not of her world. Once again he felt like the crude, ignorant country boy, and he trembled at the thought of meeting this beautiful "society girl" in her own realm. In the old days he had interested her as if he were a curiosity; now he was to see her on different grounds. He was to submit to an inspection which he knew he was not yet able to endure. As the night drew near for the visit to her home, as arranged by the glowing Converse, self-consciousness overpowered him. What would she think of him? Converse rushed in one day and told him that he had just seen Miss Wood on the street--in fact had ridden several blocks in her carriage--and that a strange coincidence was to be related. She was driving to the Art Institute with his drawing of Proctor's Falls. She had, through some influence of her own, obtained permission to hang it for a few weeks. No sooner had his visitor departed than Jud, throwing aside his work, dashed from the building and off to the Institute. He hoped that he might see her there; at least, he might again look upon that humble sketch as it hung among the aristocratic lordlings of art. She was not there, but he managed to find his picture. A man was placing it in a rather conspicuous place on the wall. "New picture, eh?" Jud asked, assuming indifference. "Yes. It beats the devil how the management lets cranks, just because they're pretty, come in here and hang chromos. Look at that. Wouldn't that jar you? Lead pencil and crayon, and as cheap as mud. Next thing we know they'll be hanging patent medicine ads in here." Jud walked away. He never forgot that half minute of impersonal criticism. As he was hurrying from the building he saw a carriage drive swiftly from the curb below. For one brief instant he had a glimpse of a face inside--one that he had never forgotten. She drove toward State Street, in the direction of the big stores to the north. Hoping for another glimpse of her, he followed. From afar he saw her enter her carriage and whirl away toward the river and her North Side home. Then he went back to work and to the letter he was writing to Justine. It teemed with references to the fairy of Proctor's Falls.