“Oh, I hate to have you go in this way! Shall I send word to the office for you?”
“No; I’ll write some telegrams on the way in. I’ll run up-stairs and put a few things in the bag, and kiss the children good night—I hear them calling.” He put his hand in his pocket and hurriedly drew out the crisp roll of bills, and looked at them ruefully.
“I brought this money for you, Lois, but I’ll have to take it with me, I’m afraid, for I might run short.” He put his arm around her for a brief instant, in answer to her exclamation. “No, don’t get me anything to eat; I haven’t time, I tell you. I’ll get what I want later, on the train.” In the strong irritation which he was curbing he felt as if he would never want to eat again. He was in reality by nature both kind and compassionate, but the worst sting of trouble lies often in the fact that it is so inopportune.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Are we near New York?”
“Yes,” said Justin, smiling encouragement at his young companion. He stood up and took down from the rack above them Dosia’s jacket, which had been reclaimed from the wreck soaked and torn, and a boy’s cap in lieu of her missing hat.
“You had better put these on now, and then you can rest again for a little while before we have to move.”
It was unavoidable that after the enforced journey the sight of Dosia’s white face and imploring eyes should have filled him with a rush of tender compassion which completely blotted out the previous reluctance from his memory. Few men spend their time regretting past stages of thought, and he had naturally accepted her tremulous thankfulness for his solicitude.
After the long day of travel in Justin’s company, the color had begun to return faintly to Dosia’s lips and cheeks. She was also growing to feel a little more at home with him; he had seemed too much a stranger and she had been too greatly in awe of him at first to ask many questions. He himself had spoken little, but had been kind in numberless ways, and thoughtful of her comfort, and always smiled encouragingly when he looked at her. Now, at the journey’s end, he began to talk, in a secret restlessness which he could not own. His mind had been busy all day with the typometer and his plans for the morrow, but as he neared home he could not shake off a haunting premonition of something unpleasant to come.
“Lois and the children will all be drawn up in line expecting the new cousin,” he said.