The porter came out and stared, for a gentleman in a blue silk wrapper who sat up all night in a vestibule was new to his experience.
"What place is this, porter?"
"Kildare, sah. This place is wha' we go from South C'lina into N'oth C'lina. Ain't yo' be'th comfor'ble, sah?"
"Perfectly; thank you."
Kildare was a familiar name, and the station, that lay at the outskirts of the town, and a long grim barracks-like building that he identified as a cotton mill, recalled the fact that he was not far from his own ample acres which lay off somewhere to westward. He had occasionally taken this route from the north in going to Ardsley, riding or driving from Kildare about ten miles to his house. In this way he was enabled to go or come without appearing at all in the little village of Ardsley.
The porter left him. He felt ready for sleep now, and resolved to go back to bed as soon as the train started. Just then a dark shadow appeared in the track and a man's voice asked cautiously:
"Air y'u the conductor?"
The questioner saw that he was not, before Ardmore could reply, and hesitated a moment.
"The porter's in the car; you can get aboard up forward," Ardmore suggested.