the train, and of a man hurling himself before it, to get for once and all out of sight and sound of the unspeakable, grotesque, unmanning shame of the thing.  It was when he saw her that he resolved that he would not put his foot on the train, lest she might think he meant to go.  However, she would probably have made no manifestation.  She was herself in mortal terror of retribution because of the things which she had confiscated in payment of her debt.  She had little of Minna Eddy’s strength of confidence in her own proceedings.  She had, however, consoled herself by the reflection that possibly nobody knew that she had taken them.  She had hidden them away under her mattress, and slept uneasily on the edge of the bed, lest she break the cups and saucers.  If it had not been so early in the morning, presumably too early for visitors from the City, she would not have dared show herself at the station.  In these days she sewed behind closed doors, with her curtains down.  She went to her customer’s houses for tryings-on, instead of having her patrons come to her.  She was always ready, working with her eyes at the parting of the curtains, to flee down a certain pair of outside back-stairs, and cut across the fields, should men be sent out from the City to collect money.  Rosenstein’s store was under her little apartment, and she knew she could trust him not to betray her.  The dressmaker was in these days fairly tragic in appearance, with a small and undignified, but none the less real, tragedy.  It was the despair of a small nature over small issues, but none the less despair.  Carroll would have paid that bill first of all, had he had the money, but none but himself knew how little money he had.  Had the aunt in Kentucky not sent the wherewithal for the railway fares, it was hard to be seen how the journey could have been taken at all.  It had even occurred to Carroll that some jewelry must needs be sacrificed.  He had made up his mind, in that case, that Anna would be the one to make the sacrifice.  She had an old set of cameos from her grandmother, which he knew were valuable if taken to the right place.  Anna had considered the matter, and would have spared him the suggestion had not the check come from the aunt to cover all the expenses of the trip, with even some to spare.  With the extra, Mrs. Carroll insisted upon buying a new hat for Charlotte.  Charlotte that morning showed little emotion.  She was looking exceedingly pretty in the new hat and her little, blue travelling-gown.  Madame Griggs eyed that and reflected that she had not made it herself, that it must have been a last winter’s one, although it had kept well in style, and she wondered if the dressmaker who made it had been paid.  Charlotte in parting from her father showed no emotion.  He kissed her, and she turned away directly and entered the train.  There was an odd expression on her face.  She had not spoken a word all the morning except to whisper to Eddy to be still, when he remarked, loudly, on the number of people present at the station.