She arrived in the evening, took a room in the hotel and went to bed almost immediately, sleeping soundly for the first time in weeks. About the middle of the next morning the Boston papers arrived. Until then she had no notion that the train she had traveled by had been wrecked.
She telegraphed immediately to Aunt Cecilia and then, after some thought, to James. It seemed the thing to do, everything being considered. She wondered if he knew she was safe, how he would take the news, if he had been much disturbed by uncertainty. She was inclined to fear that her escape had not done her cause any particular good....
His reply arrived surprisingly soon: "Stay where you are, am coming." She was touched. Apparently the turn of events had had a favorable effect on him; if he cared enough now to come up and see her the opportunity for putting her plea to him must be fairly propitious. There was a fair chance that if she acted wisely all would turn out well. But oh, she must be careful!
She knew he must arrive by the morning train and arose betimes so as to be on hand. She was in some doubt about breakfast, whether to get it early or wait for him. Either way might be better or worse; it all depended on the outcome of their meeting. She ended by deciding to wait; she would let him breakfast alone if—if. Small interest she would have in breakfast in that event.
She was downstairs long before the train was due to arrive. The weather had cleared during the night and the morning was sunny and cool, a true autumn day. She tried waiting on the verandah, but the wind was so sharp that she soon returned to the warm lobby. She could watch the road equally well from the front windows; there was a long open ascent from the station. At last she saw the hotel wagon appear round a curve. There was only one passenger in it. He, of course. She could recognize the set of his head and shoulders even at that distance. She hoped he had a warm enough overcoat.
The wagon reached the steepest part of the incline, and he was out, walking briskly along beside it. Before it, very soon; he went so much faster. How like James, and how unnecessary! He the only passenger, and what were horses made for, anyway? Still perhaps it was better, if he were not warmly dressed....
The ascent grew steeper before him and his pace visibly decreased. But the wagon merely crawled, far behind him! He was a furious walker. That hill was enough to phase any one....
Presently the sight of him plodding painfully up toward her while she waited calmly at the top grew perfectly intolerable. She could bear it no longer; hatless and coatless she rushed out of the hotel and down the road toward him. After a while he raised his face and their eyes met. Nearer and nearer they came, gazing fixedly into each other's eyes and discovering new things there, new lives, new worlds....
They did not even kiss. She, looking beyond him, saw the driver of the station wagon peering up at them, and he caught sight over her shoulder of the staring windows of the hotel. They stopped with some embarrassment and immediately began walking up together.
"It's nice to see you, James; did you have a good journey?"