Beth Norvell

"Our train is nearly here," he said in lack of something better with

which to break the constrained silence.

She glanced about doubtfully, first toward the yet distant train, then

up into his face.

"When is the local east due here? Do you know?"

"Probably an hour later than the express. At least, I judge so from

the time of its arrival at Bolton," he responded, surprised at the

question. "Why do you ask?"

She did not smile, or stir, except to lean slightly forward, her eyes

falling from his face to the platform.

"Would--would it be too much if I were to ask you to permit me to take

this first train alone?" she asked, her voice faltering, her hands

trembling where they were clasped in her lap.

His first bewildered surprise precluded speech; he could only look at

her in stupefied amazement. Then something within her lowered face

touched him with pity.

"Beth," he exclaimed, hardly aware of the words used, "do you mean

that? Is it your wish that we part here?

"Oh, no, not that!" and she rose hastily, holding to the back of the

bench with one hand, and extending the other. "Do not put it in that

way. Such an act would be cruel, unwarranted. But I am so tired, so

completely broken down. It has seemed all night long as though my

brain were on fire; every step of the horse has been torture. Oh, I

want so to be alone--alone! I want to think this out; I want to face

it all by myself. Merciful God! it seems to me I shall be driven

insane unless I can be alone, unless I can find a way into some peace

of soul. Do not blame me; do not look at me like that, but be

merciful--if you still love me, let me be alone."

He grasped the extended hand, bending low over it, unwilling in that

instant that she should look upon his face. Again and again he pressed

his dry lips upon the soft flesh.

"I do love you, Beth," he said at last, chokingly, "love you always, in

spite of everything. I will do now as you say. Your train is already

here. You know my address in Denver. Don't make this forever,

Beth--don't do that."

She did not answer him; her lips quivered, her eyes meeting his for a

single instant. In their depths he believed he read the answer of her

heart, and endeavored to be content. As the great overland train

paused for a moment to quench its thirst, the porter of the Pullman,

who, to his surprise, had been called to place his carpeted step on the

platform of this desert station, gazed in undisguised amazement at

those two figures before him--a man bareheaded, his clothing tattered

and disreputable, half supporting a woman who was hatless, white-faced,

and trembling like a frightened child.