THE PORTER (thoughtfully looking down the aisle).  Dey was three ladies had children.  I didn’t notice whether dey was boys or girls, or what dey was.  Didn’t have anybody with her?

MR. ROBERTS.  No, no.  Only the child.

THE PORTER.  Well, I don’t know what you are going to do, sah.  It won’t be a great while now till morning, you know.  Here comes the conductor.  Maybe he’ll know what to do.

[MR. ROBERTS makes some futile, inarticulate attempts to prevent The PORTER from laying the case before THE CONDUCTOR, and then stands guiltily smiling, overwhelmed with the hopeless absurdity of his position.]

THE CONDUCTOR (entering the car, and stopping before THE PORTER, and looking at MR. ROBERTS).  Gentleman want a berth?

THE PORTER (grinning).  Well, no, sah.  He’s lookin’ for his wife.

THE CONDUCTOR (with suspicion).  Is she aboard this car?

MR. ROBERTS (striving to propitiate THE CONDUCTOR by a dastardly amiability).  Oh, yes, yes.  There’s no mistake about the car—­the Governor Marcy.  She telegraphed the name just before you left Albany, so that I could find her at Boston in the morning.  Ah!

THE CONDUCTOR.  At Boston. [Sternly.] Then what are you trying to find her at Worcester in the middle of the night for?

MR. ROBERTS.  Why—­I—­that is—­

THE PORTER (taking compassion on MR. ROBERTS’S inability to continue). 
Says he wanted to surprise her.

MR. ROBERTS.  Ha—­yes, exactly.  A little caprice, you know.

THE CONDUCTOR.  Well, that may all be so. [MR. ROBERTS continues to smile in agonized helplessness against THE CONDUCTOR’S injurious tone, which becomes more and more offensively patronizing.] But I can’t do anything for you.  Here are all these people asleep in their berths, and I can’t go round waking them up because you want to surprise your wife.

MR. ROBERTS.  No, no; of course not.  I never thought—­

THE CONDUCTOR.  My advice to you is to have a berth made up, and go to bed till we get to Boston, and surprise your wife by telling her what you tried to do.

MR. ROBERTS (unable to resent the patronage of this suggestion).  Well, I don’t know but I will.

THE CONDUCTOR (going out).  The porter will make up the berth for you.

MR. ROBERTS (to THE PORTER, who is about to pull down the upper berth over a vacant seat).  Ah!  Er—­I—­I don’t think I’ll trouble you to make it up; it’s so near morning now.  Just bring me a pillow, and I’ll try to get a nap without lying down.

[He takes the vacant seat.]

THE PORTER.  All right, sah.

[He goes to the end of the car and returns with a pillow.]

MR. ROBERTS.  Ah—­porter!

THE PORTER.  Yes, sah.

MR. ROBERTS.  Of course you didn’t notice; but you don’t think you did notice who was in that berth yonder?