"Good deal of railroad rivalry nowadays, isn't there?"
"Yes, considerable," replied Bristol pleasantly, and then asking, "Are you going to introduce some rival railroads in your new play, Mrs. Winslow?"
"Not much!" she answered tersely.
"I wouldn't," replied Bristol, taking a seat near the chandelier and pulling a paper from his pocket; "they're dangerous."
Mrs. Winslow paid no attention to this, but suddenly eyed Fox, and sharply asked:
"They like very much to sell through tickets, don't they?"
"I believe they do—ought to pay better," he promptly rejoined, eyeing her in return.
"Well," said she, after a slight pause, and as if with something of a sigh, "it's all right, perhaps; but if either of you should meet any railroad agent who seems to be laboring under the delusion that I want to found a colony in some far country, just tell him to expend his energies in some other direction!"
Of course my operatives were surprised, and demanded an explanation; but the recipient of the circulars was quite dignified, and would only clear the matter up by occasional little passionate bursts of confidence, as if finding fault with them for not being able to unravel the mystery to her. They protested they knew nothing about the matter, and she undoubtedly believed them; but she ventured to inform them that if anybody—mind you, anybody—supposed they could scare her away from Rochester by any such hint as that, they were mightily mistaken, that's all there was about that.
My detectives allayed her fears as much as possible, but it was plainly observable that she was really annoyed by the occurrence. There is always a hundred times more terror in the fear of unknown evil than in that which we can boldly meet, and this particularly applies to those who know they deserve punishment, as in Mrs. Winslow's case.