“You don’t know the situation, Barslow,” he insisted, shaking his head gloomily, “and there’s no use in trying to tell you. She’s too exalted in her ideals ever to accept me. She’s told me things about the qualities she must have in the one who should be nearest to her that just simply shut me out; and I haven’t called since. Oh, I tell you, Barslow, sometimes I feel as if I could—Yes, sir, it’ll be accepted as the best piece of railroad building for years!”
I was surprised at the sudden transition, until I saw that our fellow passengers were crowding to our end of the car in response to the conductor’s announcement that we were coming into Elkins Junction. I made a note of Giddings’s state of mind, as the subject of a conference with Jim. The Herald was of too much importance to us for this to be neglected. The disciple of Iago must in some way be restored to his normal view of things. I could not help smiling at the vast difference between his view of Laura and mine. I, wrongly perhaps, thought her affectedly pietistic, with ideals likely to be yielding in spirit if the letter were preserved.
Elkins Junction was a platform, a depot, an eating-house, and a Y; and it was nothing else.
“We’ve come up here,” said Jim, “to show you probably the smallest town in the state, and the only one in the world named after me. We wanted to show you the whole line, and Mr. Schwartz felt as if he’d prefer to turn his engine around for the return trip. The last two towns we came through, and hence the first two going back, are old places. The third station is a new town, and Conductor Corcoran will take us back there, where we’ll unveil the name of the station, and permit the people to know where they live. While we’re doing the sponsorial act, lunch will be prepared and ready for us to discuss during the next run.”
On the way back there was a stir of suppressed excitement among the passengers.
“It’s about this name,” said Miss Addison to her seat-mate. “The town is on the shore of Mirror Lake, and they say it will be an important one, and a summer resort; and no one knows what the name is to be but Mr. Elkins.”
“Really, a very odd affair!” said Miss Allen, of Fairchild, Antonia’s college friend. “It makes a social function of the naming of a town!”
“Yes,” said Mr. Elkins, “and it is one of the really enduring things we can do. Long after the memory of every one here is departed, these villages will still bear the names we give them to-day. If there’s any truth in the belief that some people have, that names have an influence for good or evil, the naming of the towns may be important as building the railroad.”
I was sitting with Antonia. Miss Allen and Captain Tolliver were with us, our faces turned toward one another. General Lattimore, with Josie and her father, was on the opposite side of the car. Most of the company were sitting or standing near, and the conversation was quite general.
“Oh, it’s like a romance!” half whispered Antonia to us. “I envy you men who build roads and make towns. Look at Mr. Elkins, Sadie, as he stands there! He is master of everything; to me he seems as great as Napoleon!”