“You walk the sunny side of fate, The wise world smiles and calls you great, The golden fruitage of success Drops at your feet in plenteousness; And you have blessings manifold, Renown and power, and friends and gold, They build a wall between us twain That may not be thrown down again, Alas! for I, the long time through, Have loved you better than you knew.” It was no more pleasant for him than for her that they should meet again, and he also was glad that to-morrow would be the last day of it. His sister would be able to travel then, and they would start for Florida. Since the maid’s sickness Mrs. Bowles had not come to see Mrs. Flint any more. The occupants of the grand mansion and the lofty cottage did not know they had each planned for a flitting the same day, by the same train, and to the same destination. They could not have believed that the grim fates would have so mocked them, but yet, when Mrs. Varian and her maid swept to their seats in the train that Thursday, Everard Dawn and his party had already arrived, and he had arranged the still weak invalid very comfortably with the load of shawls and cushions carried by Rachel Dane. Mrs. Varian, ignoring the passengers with her usual queenly air, sunk to her seat in blissful unconsciousness, and buried herself in her novel. Not for two hours did she discover the identity of her traveling companions, because at first she did not vouchsafe them even one curious glance. Not so Everard Dawn, who had started in surprise and perturbation at her first entrance. “The fates have made us traveling companions--not for the first time, but I pray Heaven for the last!” was his grim thought. He was sitting some seats ahead, and he resolutely turned his back to her, hoping not to disturb her peace by the disclosure of her identity, and thinking it hardly possible they should be fellow-travelers long. She was probably going to Richmond or Washington. There were but few passengers, and they were very quiet as the train rushed on through the dull gray afternoon. Mrs. Flint, weary from the getting ready for the journey, dozed fitfully among her cushions, and Rachel Dane glued her face to the window-pane, and watched the flying landscape. As for Everard Dawn, he looked neither to the right nor left, but stared straight before him in a brown study. Mrs. Varian’s maid amused herself by studying the passengers, and discovered that some of them belonged to the town they had just left, though she did not suppose her haughty mistress would take any interest in that fact. CHAPTER XXXIV. “THE WEIGHT OF CRUEL YEARS PILED INTO ONE LONG AGONY.” Mrs. Varian read on and on until her eyes grew weary, then closing them, she leaned back with a tired sigh, and fell to musing. Perhaps the musings were not pleasant, for presently she sighed deeply again, and raising her head began to look around her in a listless way at the passengers.