“There, dear, you are better. Drink this.”  
Margot opened her eyes in the big waiting-room for women at the great station. A kind-faced woman in a white cap and was bending over her and holding a cup of bouillon to her lips, which obediently opened and received the with grateful .
 
“Thank you. That is good. Where am I? Who are you?”
 
The attendant explained: and added, with intent to comfort:
 
“You are all right. You will be cared for. It was the long going without food and the sudden confusion of arrival. The Indian says you have not eaten in a long time. He [Pg 260]is here, I could not keep him out. Is—is he safe?”
 
The hot, strong soup, and the comforting presence restored the girl so far that she could laugh.
 
“Joe safe? Our own dear old Joseph Wills? Why, madam, he is the very best guide in all the state of Maine. Aren’t you, Joe? And my uncle’s most trusted friend. Else he would not be here with me. What happened to me that things got so queer?”
 
“You fainted. That’s all.”
 
“I? Why, I never did such a thing in my life before.”
 
Joe drew near. His face seemed still impassive but there was a look of profound concern in his small, black eyes.
 
“Wouldn’ eat. Get sick. Joe said. Joe hungry, too.”
 
Margot sat up, instantly, with . If this uncomplaining friend admitted hunger she must have been , indeed.
 
[Pg 261]
 
“Oh, dear madam! Please get him something to eat, or show him where to get it for himself. This last part of the road, or journey, was so long. The train didn’t stop anywhere, hardly, and I saw none of the eating places I had seen on the other trains. We were late, too, in starting, and had no breakfast. My own head whirls yet, and poor Joe must be . I have money, plenty, to pay for everything.”
 
The station matron called an attendant and put Joe in his charge. She, also, ordered a tray of food brought from the restaurant and made Margot eat. Indeed, she was now quite ready to do this and ; and her appetite , she told the motherly woman as much of her story as was necessary; asking her advice about a stopping place, and if she, too, thought it true that the widow’s house had been .
 
“Oh, yes, miss. I know that myself, for I live not so far from that street. It is, or was, an old-fashioned one, and full of big houses [Pg 262]that had once been grand but had run down. The property was valuable, though, and no doubt the widow bettered herself by selling. More than that, if she is still in the city, her name should be in the directory. I’ll look it up and if I find it, telephone her. After we do that will be time enough to look for some other place, if she is not to be found.”
 
Margot did not understand all this, and wondered what this quiet, orderly person had to do with the starting of trains, which she could hear continually moving out and in the monster building, even though she could not see them from this inner room. But this wonder was soon lost in a fresh surprise as, having consulted a big book which was chained to a desk in one corner, the matron came forward, smiling.
 
“I’ve found the name, miss. Spelled just as you gave it to me. The number is away up town, in Harlem. But I’ll ring her up and see.”
 
Again the matron crossed the room, toward [Pg 263]a queer looking arrangement on the wall; but, a new train arriving, the room so filled with women and children that she had no more leisure to attend to Margot. However, she managed to tell her:
 
“Don’t worry. I’ll be free soon again, for a minute. And I’ll tell that Indian to sit just outside the door, if you wish. You can sit there with him, too, if it makes you feel more at home. You’re all right now, and will not faint again.”
 
“No, indeed. I never did before nor shall again, I hope.”
 
Yet Margot was very thankful when she and Joe were once more side by side, and now amused herself in studying the crowds about her.
 
“Oh! Joe, there are more ‘types’ here in a minute than one could see at home in years. Look. That’s a Swede. I know by the shape of his face, and his coloring. Though I never saw a live Swede before.”
 
“Wonder if she ever saw a dead one!” said [Pg 264]a voice in passing, and Margot knew she had been , yet not why. Then, too, she saw that many glances were turned upon the bench where she and Joe sat, apart from the crowd and, for almost the first time, became conscious that in some way she looked not as other people. However, she was neither over-sensitive nor given to self-contemplation and she had perfect faith in her uncle’s . He had lived in this great city, he knew what was correct. He had told her to ask the widow to supply her with anything that was needed. She had nothing to do now but wait till the widow was found, and then she could go on about the more important business which had brought her hither.
 
As she remembered that business, her rose. She was now, she must be, not only within a few miles of her unknown father, but of the man who had wronged him, whom she was to compel to right that wrong. She sprang to her feet. The crowd that had filled the waiting-room was again thinning, [Pg 265]for a time, and the matron should be free. Would she never come?
 
“Then I’ll go to her! Stay right here, Joe. Don’t leave this place a minute now till I get back. Then we’ll not lose each other. I’ll come for you as soon as I can.”
 
Joe his and closed his eyes. He, too, was conscious of staring eyes and indignant at them. Had nobody ever seen an Indian before? Were not these clothes that he was wearing the Master’s gift and of the same sort all these other men wore? Let them gaze, if that suited the simple creatures. As for him he was comfortable. The bench was no harder than the ground. Not much hard............