Up Walnut Street at a breakneck pace came a flaming red automobile, sounding its taunting menace, “Honk-honk!  Honk-honk!” but George Benedict stopped not for automobiles.  Straight into the jaws of death he rushed, and was saved only by the timely grasp of a policeman, who rolled him over on the ground.  The machine came to a halt, and a familiar voice shouted:  “Conscience alive, George, is that you?  What are you trying to do?  Say, but that was a close shave!  Where you going in such a hurry, anyway?  Hustle in, and I’ll take you there.”

The young man sprang into the seat, and gasped:  “West Philadelphia station, Chicago Limited!  Hurry!  Train leaves Broad Street station at nine-fifty.  Get me there if you can, Billy.  I’ll be your friend forever.”

By this time they were speeding fast.  Neither of the two had time to consider which station was the easier to make; and, as the machine was headed toward West Philadelphia, on they went, regardless of laws or vainly shouting policemen.

George Benedict sprang from the car before it had stopped, and nearly fell again.  His nerves were not steady from his other fall yet.  He tore into the station and out through the passageway past the beckoning hand of the ticket-man who sat in the booth at the staircase, and strode up three steps at a time.  The guard shouted:  “Hurry!  You may get it; she’s just starting!” and a friendly hand reached out, and hauled him up on the platform of the last car.

For an instant after he was safely in the car he was too dazed to think.  It seemed as if he must keep on blindly rushing through that train all the way to Chicago, or she would get away from him.  He sat down in an empty seat for a minute to get his senses.  He was actually on the train!  It had not gone without him!

Now the next question was, Was she on it herself, or had she in some way slipped from his grasp even yet?  The old butler might have caught her by telephone.  He doubted it.  He knew her stubborn determination, and all at once he began to suspect that she was with intention running away from him, and perhaps had been doing so before!  It was an astonishing thought and a grave one, yet, if it were true, what had meant that welcoming smile in her eyes that had been like dear sunshine to his heart?

But there was no time to consider such questions now.  He had started on this quest, and he must continue it until he found her.  Then she should be made to explain once and for all most fully.  He would live through no more torturing agonies of separation without a full understanding of the matter.  He got upon his shaking feet, and started to hunt for Elizabeth.

Then all at once he became aware that he was still carrying the box of flowers.  Battered and out of shape it was, but he was holding it as if it held the very hope of life for him.  He smiled grimly as he tottered shakily down the aisle, grasping his floral offering with determination.  This was not exactly the morning call he had planned, nor the way he had expected to present his flowers; but it seemed to be the best he could do.  Then, at last, in the very furthest car from the end, in the drawing-room he found her, sitting gray and sorrowful, looking at the fast-flying landscape.