her fine constitution! A fighting chance—that was little enough to say, though. Why couldn’t he have put it a little stronger? Hitchcock always was a pessimist.
At the station the usual crowd of well-dressed suburbanites quieted their horses and waited impatiently for the express. As Belden drew up into line, they greeted him with a subdued interest; coachmen left their seats to ask how Mrs. Moore was to-day, and when could one see her? A sudden mist came over his eyes as he answered briefly, “Very soon—I hope.”
The train thundered in; in an incredibly short time all the guests and commuters were hurried off toward town—where was that nurse?
As his glance wandered through the thinning crowd, it was met suddenly and squarely by two brown eyes set in a fresh pink face framed by dark hair lightly sprinkled with gray. The second that he looked into that woman’s eyes taught
