George did not stir. Grace continued to call me, and at last I walked slowly out of the room.
Now that I am alone, and can think it over calmly, I have no words strong enough to express my disgust at my own folly. To think that I, Dorris Romilly, should be in love! Worse still, desperately in love,—in love as I never dreamed was possible for me. And then that I should have been such an arrant coward as to lose my opportunity, and ruin all my chances of happiness. For, of course, I cannot go calmly to Count Piloff, and tell him that I would like to marry him; nor can I write it to him. I shall never see him alone again, and he will always think I care for Chilton Thurber. I see nothing bright in any direction, and if it were not foolish and useless, I should wish myself dead.
In the Train, Saturday Night.
It is a relief to have said good-by, and not to feel that it is still a black cloud in the future. The saying of it, and the actual departure, were not so painful as the two days which preceded, when I could think of nothing else.
If it were not for Mr. Thurber's presence, which constantly reminds me of the explanation I must have with him, I could find it in my heart to be almost cheerful. Tom unconsciously brightened us this morning by his mishaps. In the first place, he got very much excited over the loss of his umbrella. Then, when he entered the car, he gave his head a smart knock against the side
