"But I know you'll be lonesome, mother, and so shall I be for you."
"But when you grow lonesome," Mrs. Procter whispered, "just think how lovely it will be to return home; and remember that father's machine will be given its great test before you come back. Mr. Bartlett and Mr. Massey have made all arrangements."
Suzanna's face brightened; the clouds dispelled themselves, so she was able to greet Graham with much of her old smile.
"All ready?" he cried as he ran up the steps. "Father and mother and a maid are following in another carriage. Nancy is with us."
He was quite plainly excited by some thought deeper than the mere fact of going to the seashore. Suzanna's companionship was promised for long days to come; he knew her eye for beauty hidden from others; her quaint speech. And then, too, a new relationship had come to pass between himself and his mother. Between them an understanding that made him glow.
It seemed but a moment before they were all together in the train. Suzanna settled herself to look out of the window at the passing landscape, so exhilaratingly new to her. Maizie sat beside her, Peter across the aisle with Graham. Little Daphne was cuddled close to Mrs. Bartlett. Mr. Bartlett was in the dining-car.
Maizie whispered to her sister: "We've come to the future now, haven't we, Suzanna?"
"Why, you can't ever come to the future," returned Suzanna.
Maizie puzzled a moment. "But don't you remember, mother said we might travel on a train some time in the future? So now we're doing it, why haven't we come to the future?"
"Because you never can come to the future," Suzanna repeated. She leaned forward and spoke to Mrs. Bartlett. "When you're living a day it's the present, isn't it, Mrs. Bartlett?"