A Counterfeit Presentment; and, The Parlour Car

by William Dean Howells

Miss G., starting away again and looking about the car.—"Allen, I have an idea! Do you suppose Mr. Pullman could be induced to sell this car?"

Mr. R.—"Why?"

Miss G.—"Why, because I think it's perfectly lovely, and I should like to live in it always. It could be fitted up for a sort of summer-house, don't you know, and we could have it in the garden, and you could smoke in it."

Mr. R.—"Admirable! It would look just like a travelling photographic saloon. No, Lucy, we won't buy it; we will simply keep it as a precious souvenir, a sacred memory, a beautiful dream,—and let it go on fulfilling its destiny all the same."

Porter, entering and gathering up Miss Galbraith's things.—"Be at Schenectady in half a minute, miss. Won't have much time."

Miss G., rising and adjusting her dress, and then looking about the car, while she passes her hand through her lover's arm.—"O, I do hate to leave it. Farewell, you dear, kind, good, lovely car! May you never have another accident!" She kisses her hand to the car, upon which they both look back as they slowly leave it.

Mr. R., kissing his hand in like manner.—"Good-bye, sweet chariot! May you never carry any but bridal couples!"

Miss G.—"Or engaged ones!"

Mr. R.—"Or husbands going home to their wives!"

Miss G.—"Or wives hastening to their husbands."