"I know. But she's wanted to see you. She says she can't write half so well as she can talk." "No. One can't." There was silence for some time after this exchange. Stuart seemed restless, stirred often, once got up and stood for a long time at the rear of the car, staring back at the wet tracks slipping away behind. When they had changed trains and were headed for New York, with their destination only a few hours away, Stuart, again in the vestibule of the car, looking out through the closed entrance door upon a dull landscape passing like a misty wraith through the November fog and twilight, found Georgiana at his elbow. "Jimps," she was saying in her straightforward way, "what's the use of bothering to keep it covered when it shows so plainly? Do you think I don't understand? I do--and it's absolutely all right." He turned quickly, and his gloomy eyes stared down into her uplifted face. "O George!" he muttered. "Can you honestly say that?" "Honestly. I know how it happened. You couldn't help it. It was meant to be. The other--wasn't. That's all there is of it." "I've been feeling such a sneak." "Why should you? I've told you over and over----" "I know you have. But--that last time----" "That was really the beginning of--this other," said she with decision. "You were not yourself and you didn't know just why. You thought it must be because you cared for me, but it was--the stirring of your first real feeling for any woman, only you didn't recognize it. That's the whole thing, Jimps, and you are not to reproach yourself, particularly now when----" She faltered suddenly, and he drew a quick breath that was as if something stabbed him. After a little he began very slowly: "It didn't really happen till--Devonshire. Those two weeks--I can't tell you. No mortal man could have resisted her. Yet I tried; I did, George. She didn't know about you; she never has, except that we were old friends and dear ones. She thinks the trouble is that she's a rich man's daughter and I'm only a farmer." "You're no ordinary farmer and she knows it. Her family know it. And if she wants you she'll have you; they've never refused her anything." "I haven't asked her." "James Stuart!" It was her old tone with him. For the moment both forgot the possible issue of this errand upon which they were going; only the vital relations at stake seemed involved. "But--she knows," said Stuart very low. "Of course she does." By and by Stuart spoke again. "George, you were never quite so close to me as now." She slipped her hand into his. "I'll stay close, dear; and I'll do all I can for you both." This was all they said until the first lights of the great city, miles out, were flashing past them. Then it occurred to Georgiana to put a startled question: "Jimps, have you any address to go to? There was none in my telegram."