“You just barely managed it.  I reckon nobody could misunderstand that.  By no means cordial—­but of course not!” Carrington reflected.  His own handsome face had been expressionless when he returned her bow, and Betty could not have guessed how consoled and comforted he was by it.  With great fortitude and self-denial he forbore to look in her direction again, but he lingered at the table until the last moment that he might watch her when she returned to the coach.  Mr. Carrington entertained ideals where women were concerned, and even though he had been the one to profit by it he would not have had Betty depart in the minutest particular from those stringent rules he laid down for her sex.  Consequently that distant air she bore toward him filled him with satisfaction.  It was quite enough for the present—­for the present—­that three times each day his perseverance and determination were rewarded by that curt little acknowledgment of her indebtedness to him.

It was four days to Richmond.  Four days of hot, dusty travel, four nights of uncomfortable cross-road stations, where Betty suffered sleepless nights and the unaccustomed pangs of early rising.  She occasionally found herself wondering who Carrington was.  She approved of the manner in which he conducted himself.  She liked a man who could be unobtrusive.  Traveling like that day after day it would have been so easy for him to be officious.  But he never addressed her and refused to see any opportunity to assist her in entering or quitting the stage, leaving that to some one else.  Presently she was sorry she had bowed to him that first day—­so self-contained and unpresuming a person as he would evidently have been quite satisfied to overlook the omission.  Then she began to be haunted by doubts.  Perhaps, after all, he had not recognized her as the girl he had met in the road!  This gave her a very queer feeling indeed—­for what must he think of her?  And the next time she bowed to this perfect stranger she threw a chilling austerity into the salutation quite at variance with her appearance, for the windy drive had tangled her hair and blown it in curling wisps about her face.  This served to trouble Carrington excessively, and furnished him with food for reflection through all his waking moments for the succeeding eight and forty hours.

The next morning he found himself seated opposite her at breakfast.  He received another curt little nod, cool and distant, as he took his seat, but he felt strongly that a mere bowing acquaintance would no longer suffice; so he passed her a number of things she didn’t want, and presently ventured the opinion that she must find traveling as they were, day after day, very fatiguing.  Surprised at the sound of his voice, before she knew what she was doing, Betty said, “Not at all,” closed her red lips, and was immediatelv dumb.