"As neah as I can make out from the—the undigested po'tion of this ticket, yo' numba is six."
"That's it—six!"
"That's right up this way."
"Let me sit here till I get my breath," she pleaded, "I ran so hard to catch the train."
"Well, you caught it good and strong."
"I'm so glad. How soon do we start?"
"In about half a houah."
"Really? Well, better half an hour too soon than half a minute too late." She said it with such a copy-book primness that the porter set her down as a school-teacher. It was not a bad guess. She was a missionary. With a pupil-like shyness he volunteered:
"Yo' berth is all ready whenever you wishes to go to baid." He caught her swift blush and amended it to—"to retiah."
"Retire?—before all the car?" said Miss Anne Gattle, with prim timidity. "No, thank you! I intend to sit up till everybody else has retired."