Zoe, in charmingly becoming and elegant traveling attire, her fond young husband by her side, ready to anticipate every wish and gratify it if in his power, was extremely comfortable, and found great enjoyment, now in chatting gaily with him, now sitting silent by his side watching the flying panorama of forest and prairie, hill, valley, rock, river and plain.

At length her attention was attracted to something going on within the car.

“Tickets!” cried the conductor, passing down the aisle, “Tickets!”

Edward handed out his own and his wife’s.  They were duly punched and given back.

The conductor moved on, repeating his call, “Tickets?”

Up to this moment Zoe had scarcely noticed who occupied the seat immediately behind herself and Edward, but now turning her head, she saw there two young women of pleasing appearance, evidently foreigners.  Both were looking anxiously up at the conductor who held their tickets in his hand.

“You are on the wrong road,” he was saying; “these are through-tickets for Utah.”

“What does he say? something is wrong?” asked the younger of the two girls, addressing her companion in Danish.

“I do not understand, Alma,” replied the other, speaking in the same tongue.  “Ah, did we but know English!  I do not understand, sir; I do not know one word you say,” she repeated with a hopeless shake of the head, addressing the conductor.

“Do you know what she says, sir?” asked the man, turning to Edward.

“From her looks and gestures it is evident that she does not understand English,” replied Edward, “and I think that is what she says.  Suppose you try her with German.”

“Can’t, sir; speak no language but my mother tongue.  Perhaps you will do me the favor to act as interpreter?”

“With pleasure;” and addressing the young woman, Edward asked in German if she spoke that language.

She answered with an eager affirmative; and he went on to explain that the ticket she had offered the conductor would not pay her fare on that road; then asked where she wished to go.

“To Utah, sir,” she said.  “Is not this the road to take us there?”

“No, we are traveling south, and Utah lies toward the northwest; very far west.”

“O sir, what shall we do?” she exclaimed in distress.  “Will they stop the cars and let us out?”

“Not just here; the conductor says you can get off at the next station and wait there for a train going back to Cincinnati; it seems it must have been there you made the mistake and left your proper route, and there you can recover it.”

She sat silent, looking sadly bewildered and distressed.

“I feel very sorry for you,” said Zoe kindly, speaking in German; “we would be glad to help you, and if you like to tell us your story, my husband may be able to advise you what to do.”