The place was darkening, suffocating to her. “Yes ... if you would only take me. Five, ten dollars—oh, I should be so glad to pay anything I have——”
The carrier penetrated the veil.
“Just sit down by the heater, Lady,” he said in a lowered tone. “We’ll get there, and it won’t cost you five or ten dollars, neither. I know where you want to go, and I know who you are, if I’m not mistaken. Lizzie and I will get you there——”
She turned quickly, for the tears were coming.... Could it really be that she had remembered everything? Was she really going to him, and this the last stage of the journey? The heart of the large, dusty man had radiated so suddenly upon her. She was not afraid of him, but she must not faint nor speak until she was away from the others. Very still she sat by the heater, praying for strength, praying that it was not all a dream....
“Miss Betty Berry!”
There was an instant in which the call had but a vague meaning; then shot home to her the hideous fear of being taken back. She was close to screaming, yet it was only the rural-carrier coming.
“Yes?” she said, clearing her throat.
“I thought I couldn’t be wrong,” he said. “I’ve brought a good many letters addressed to you back to town from the place you’re going, and carried a good many out yonder in this writing of yours.... Lizzie and me are ready, Miss.”
As they stepped out the rear door, he touched her arm reflectively, and re-entered to bring a hairy black robe. The vehicle, of a vanished type, was gray even in the rain, and cocked to one side from the sagging of years, where the carrier sat. Betty’s weight did not visibly impress the high side. He tucked the hairy robe about her, the mail-bags at her feet, picked up the lines, and lo! they moved.
“Lizzie ain’t very showy on knee action, Miss Berry,” he said, “but along about half-past eleven, when we get there, you’ll remark she’s stiddy.”