Mary Dunlap turned her eyes away from them at last, resolved to wonder no more about these strangers who had caught her passing interest. It was none of her business anyway, what troubled these two. They would have to settle their own affairs. There was obviously no way in which she could help them; and perhaps even this kindly observation was a species of eavesdropping. She would think no more about them.
With her eyes on the dark landscape outside the window, she began to think about those two hours that the train had lost and to wonder what she could possibly do about it in case she missed her connection at the junction. Being a methodical woman, and a careful planner she was not used to missing her appointments, and it was most annoying to have the train crawl along this way, and then stop for unexplainable periods. Nevertheless, there was a certain resignation about her annoyance. She believed fully that design, not mere chance or Fate determines our ways, and reorders our plannings sometimes, in accordance with All-seeing wisdom; and she could not help wondering why her plans had been put in jeopardy.
For a long time she watched the lights of the little villages go flying by, for now the train seemed to have taken up a steady, dogged trot, and rolled along without stopping as if it had made up its mind to get home sometime.
But when she finally turned her gaze back to the car again she could see that the two in front of her had not settled their argument yet. They were not talking much now, but each face was eloquent of disagreement. The girl's eyes held unshed tears, and her look was openly anxious. Now and then she cast a pleading look at her companion, and said a little wistful word, ending in a sigh. The man was still stubbornly positive, his lips curving in a superior smile of amusement at the girl's reiterated objections. Again Mary Dunlap began to realize that her own interest in the affair was unwarrantably eager. She must stop thinking about these two people or they would pretty soon turn around suddenly and see her staring at them.
But just at that instant there occurred a happy interruption. The brakeman came eagerly through the train as one bearing welcome news, shouting the name of the Junction at last.
Mrs. Dunlap sat up briskly and looked at her watch. Ten minutes past midnight! Would the other train have waited?
Capably and quickly she straightened her hat, put on her gloves, buttoned her coat, gathered her hand bag, brief case, and suit case, and was ready at the door of the car when the train came to a halt.
But a glance at the track on the other side of the station showed that the train had not waited! The station looked deserted and dirty in the dim midnight, and her heart sank. Now, why had this had to happen?
Mrs. Dunlap paused for a moment in the doorway of the station as the disappointed crowds surged from the belated train. They had all more or less of a discouraged look and she sympathized with them. It was a new experience to her to be stranded unexpectedly at midnight in a strange place. Her delay would undoubtedly disappoint many people; but it certainly was not her fault. She had planned carefully as usual, and now must send telegrams in various directions to explain her non-appearance; her first disappointment as a platform speaker after years of service. She could not possibly reach her first appointment now in time and the whole schedule would be thrown out. Too bad, but she must make the best of it.
As she made her way to the telegraph office the man, who had for several hours occupied the seat in front of her, brushed past her. He too had probably missed connections and must telegraph. She wondered where he had left his young wife and wished she might have had a chance to show her some little kindness. She felt strangely drawn to the girl, who looked too young to be a wife and seemed so utterly troubled.