“You are very tired, I am sure,” said the latter. “Granville, pass me my bag. Now, do have a little milk, it will be so good for you.”
“Thank you so much, but I really do not need it,” protested the girl.
“Oh, nonsense, you don’t know what is good for you! Come, I insist on it!”
So she swallowed the milk mechanically, and then went on looking out of the window, inwardly struggling between gratitude to the unknown lady and embarrassment at having her confusion noticed. She was angry with herself too. She had felt so perfectly competent to undertake this expedition—a High School mistress, living in rooms, she was accustomed to look after herself—and here was she, Catherine West, who had taken a high class at Cambridge, actually crying because an under-bred man had annoyed her! But the truth was that she knew very little of the world. She had gone straight from school to college, straight from college to the post that she now held. She had thought little of men or of their relations to her, for women, whose youth is absorbed in intellectual interests, are later in development on the emotional side than others, yet, when the awakening comes, are apt, perhaps because of the severity of their early training, to feel more strongly and to suffer more deeply.
The journey passed without further incident. One by one, as evening came on, the passengers settled themselves, comfortably or uncomfortably, against air-cushions or feather pillows, and fell asleep. But sleep was a long time coming to Catherine; she closed her eyes, but her excitement kept her awake, and when at last she fell into an uneasy doze, it was only to rouse at every station, where the train drew up with a jerk and scream, and to stare bewildered at the red lights that flashed across the darkness.
Morning at last, and the frontier reached! Catherine thought that she would never forget the breath of cool clear air that swept through the close compartment like a cleansing touch. The occupants, dishevelled and unwashed, rushed out for coffee and rolls, then back again, and the train went steaming on through the early coolness of the Swiss dawn, while Catherine watched the east growing rosy behind the pines that fringed the hills, and then, in one rapturous moment, caught sight of the first snowy peak, all hushed and stainless in the silence of the morning.
Suddenly her glance met that of the lady opposite.
“How beautiful!” they both exclaimed in one breath.
From that moment the compact of friendship was sealed between the two women; they began to talk to one another, and found that they had many interests in common. So the time passed pleasantly, till, arrived at length at their destination, they found that they were going to the same hotel.
“Give my brother”—Catherine started at this revelation—“the ticket for your luggage, and he will see after it for you,” said her friend. “You and I will go on to the hotel. Oh, the delight of a wash! And then——”