She raised her eyebrows slightly, but thanked him and said she would consider it an honor. His face grew hot and his heart cold with the fancy that there was in her eyes a gleam which said: "I pity you, poor fellow."
Notwithstanding his strange misgiving and the fact that his pride had sustained quite a perceptible shock, he drove with them to the station. They went to the sleeping car a few minutes before the time set for the train's departure, and stood at the bottom of the steps, uttering the good-bys, the God-speeds and the sincere hope that they might meet again. Then came the sharp activity of the trainmen, the hurry of belated passengers. He glanced soberly at his watch.
"It is nine o'clock. Perhaps you would better get aboard," he said, and proceeded to assist Aunt Yvonne up the steps. She turned and pressed his hand gently before passing into the car.
"Adieu, good friend. You have made it so very pleasant for us," she said, earnestly.
The tall, soldierly old gentleman was waiting to assist his niece into the coach.
"Go first, Uncle Caspar," the girl made Lorry happy by saying. "I can easily come up unaided."
"Or I can assist her," Lorry hastened to add, giving her a grateful look which she could not misunderstand. The uncle shook hands warmly with the young man and passed up the steps. She was following when Lorry cried, "Will you not allow me?"
She laughingly turned to him from the steps and stretched forth her hand.
"And now it is good-by forever. I am so sorry that I have not seen more of you," she said. He took her hand and held it tightly for a moment.
"I shall never forget the past few days," he said, a thrill in his voice. "You have put something into my life that can never be taken away. You will forget me before you are out of Washington, but I--I shall always see you as you are now."
She drew her hand away gently, but did not take her eyes from his upturned face.
"You are mistaken. Why should I forget you--ever? Are you not the ideal American whose name I bought? I shall always remember you as I saw you--at Denver."
"Not as I have been since?" he cried.
"Have you changed since first I saw you?" she asked, quaintly.
"I have, indeed, for you saw me before I saw you. I am glad I have not changed for the worse in your eyes."
"As I first knew you with my eyes I will say that they are trustworthy," she said tantalizingly.