"Frankie and Porter, I imagine," replied Evan, casually.
"How did you know?"
"Met Perry last night," answered the brother, briefly. "What are you looking so queer about, Sis?"
"Oh, nothing," said Lou, disappointedly; "only I thought you would be more interested than you are."
He made no reply, again to his sister's astonishment, but turned to Henty.
"A. P.," he said, "we'll meet the girl you're going to marry, when we get to Orangeville. We'll have to change from this train to hers."
A. P. blushed ridiculously, and so did Lou. Evan pretended not to notice, and turned his attention to the luggage.
On the way to Orangeville father and son found each other interesting. There was still a sparkle in George Nelson's eye. Back in a double seat Henty was bravely endeavoring to take care of two ladies, mother and daughter.
At Orangeville, as Perry was saying his farewells to Frankie, Lou caught her eye and beckoned to her. Not having to pass the seat where Evan and his father were, Frankie obeyed the summons. She was introduced to Henty, and deliberately sat beside him. "The porter" looked sourly around and disappeared. Evan caught a girl's eye in a mirror and left his seat. Not having seen Frankie for three years and a half he was somewhat prepared for a change, but not for the change that had taken place. Her cheeks were no longer round and girlish, her voice had changed, her eyes were older and more womanly-comprehending.
"Frankie," he said, taking the little hand she offered, "it seems mighty good to get a look at you after—all that has happened."