"I shall be safe to-night," she said softly, to the child by her side, "and I won't tell you my name, because it will not be mine much longer. But what is yours? Tell me quick!"
"All aboard! Next stop One Hund' Twent'-fifth Street!" some one called, hoarsely.
Caroline looked dazed. She tried to speak sensibly, but her tongue played tricks with her, and the tension of her feelings was too much for her. As the girl paused a second on the platform, and the train shuddered for its start, Caroline called above the escaping steam:
"I'm Mary Queen of Scots—I am! I am!"
The white face of Joan of Arc broke into a wavering smile.
"You dear little idiot," she called, chokingly, "I'll find you out yet! You'll see! Good-by—God bless your Majesty."
And while she might, Caroline ran beside the window, waving her hand at that tearful, happy face.
