CHAPTER II.
IN THE TOURIST CAR.
For a time after the train pulled out from the station at Los Angeles, Jessica Trent saw nothing for the mist of tears which blurred her eyes; save that framed in that mist was the sad, beautiful face of her mother. How pale it had been! Yet how quiet the dear voice bidding her “be worthy” of that dead father, whose representative she must be. For his sake she was to be educated. For his sake, to carry out his high ideals, she had had to leave her home and “learn life.”
“That was it, more than books, my mother said. ‘Life.’ As if there were not the best sort of life at dear Sobrante!” she murmured, fancying the loud “chug-chug” of the train would cover her voice.
To her surprise it had not. For Mr. Hale answered as if she had spoken aloud to him:
“Suppose you begin to learn it right now and here, my little maid. There are dozens of people in this car and each one is very much alive. See that odd old lady in the second section beyond ours. She seems to be in trouble of some sort and is quite alone. She’s bobbed under her seat a half-dozen times already, yet comes up empty-handed every time. You might ask her if you can help.”
For Mr. Hale was wise enough to know that the best and surest way of curing one’s own discontent is by relieving that of somebody else.
For once Jessica was not inspired by the idea of helping somebody. She was far more inclined to sit still in her comfortable place and think about things it were better she should forget—just for a little time. Sobrante, little Ned and Luis, Buster her beloved mount, the glorious garden behind the “house”—Oh! to think each mile she journeyed, each turn of those ceaseless wheels, carried her further and further away!
“Now, dear! I’m really afraid the poor old soul will hurt herself and she’s rung for the porter times without end, yet he doesn’t come. Will you, or shall I?”
Indeed, Mr. Hale had already half-risen and only delayed to offer his services because he knew it better for Jessica to be roused from her brooding. Fortunately, her good breeding conquered her reluctance and, a moment later, guiding herself along the aisle of the swaying car, she reached the old lady’s side and asked:
“Beg pardon, madam, but have you lost something? Can I help you look for it?”