Cornelia wished her seatmate would keep still or go away but she tried to smile gratefully.
“I was so interested in all those young people who came down to see you off. It reminded me of younger days. Was that a college up on the hill above the station?”
Now indeed was Cornelia’s tongue loosed. Her beloved college! Ah, she could talk about that even to ladies clad in furs and jewels, and she was presently launched in a detailed description of the junior play, her face kindling vividly under the open admiration of the white-haired, beautiful woman, who knew just how to ask the right questions to bring out the girl’s eager tale, and who responded so readily to every point she brought out.
“And how is it that you are going away?” she asked at last. “I should think you could not be spared. You seem to have been the moving spirit in it all. But I suppose you are returning in time to do your part.”
Cornelia’s face clouded over suddenly, and she drew a deep sigh. For the moment she had forgotten. It was almost as if the pretty lady had struck her in the face with her soft, jewelled hand. She seemed to shrink into herself.
“No,” she said at last sadly, “I’m not going back—ever, I’m afraid.” The words came out with a sound almost like a sob, and were wholly unintentional with Cornelia. She was not one to air her sorrows before strangers, or even friends, but somehow the whole tragedy had come over her like a great wave that threatened to engulf her. She was immediately sorry that she had spoken, however, and tried to explain in a tone less tragic. “You see, my mother is not well and had to go away, and—they—needed me at home.”
She lifted her clouded eyes to meet a wealth of admiration in the older woman’s gaze.
“How beautiful! To be needed, I mean,” the lady said with a smile. “I can think just what a tower of strength you will be to your father. Your father is living?”
“Yes,” gasped Cornelia with a sudden thought of how terrible it would be if he were gone. “Oh, yes; and it’s strange—he used these very words when he wrote me to come home.” Then she grew rosy with the realization of how she was thinking out loud to this elegant stranger.
“Of course he would,” assented the lady. “I can see that you are! I was thinking that as I watched you all the afternoon. You seem so capable and so—sweet!”