be sympathetic. It was far from Ambrose Deacon's intention to rebuff so honest an appeal. He was too sensitive himself not to feel with some intensity what he imagined the other must be feeling.
As the shadows deepened across the fields outside his window, he found himself more and more occupied with the problem of Abel Morris. In retrospect he regretted exceedingly his inability to receive him more cordially and the possibility even occurred to him of making a search through the train for the fellow, but this required an effort of will far beyond the modest capacity of Ambrose Deacon, the more so as he had made no opening for himself during their brief intercourse together which would give him a suitable excuse for performing this maneuvre. While he was meditating thus, perplexed and even anxious, a passing porter announced that dinner was served. To avoid the crowd, although it was only five-thirty, Ambrose determined to repair at once to the dining-car.
On this occasion, notwithstanding the rapidity with which he had made his toilet, Ambrose discovered that many of his fellow-passengers shared his theory about the practicality of early meals on a train. As he entered the car, walking in the direction in which the train was moving, he saw the back of a man or a
