I wasn’t quite sure but I might be in a dream. Because you see, I was never sure whether my dream of you through the years would be like this when I found you—if I found you!”

“That’s one of the nicest things anybody ever said to me,” said Mary Elizabeth softly, guiding her car slowly under the shadow of the elms.

“I suppose scores of men have said nice things to you,” John remarked dismally.

“Yes,” said the girl thoughtfully, “a great many. But I’m not sure they were always sincere. Their words didn’t always please me. Yours do. You know it’s rather wonderful to find someone that doesn’t have to be chattered to in order to feel the pleasant comfort of companionship. Even if I never see you again, we’ve had a lovely evening, haven’t we? I would never forget you.”

John started forward and closer to her, looking in her face.

“Is that all it means to you?” he said searchingly.

“I didn’t say it was,” said Mary Elizabeth with a dancing in her eyes that gleamed naughtily even in the dark as she turned toward him. “I shouldn’t prevent your seeing me again, of course, if you want to. I only said, even if I never saw you again, I wouldn’t forget that we’ve had a most unique and wonderful evening. You must remember that I have no data by which to judge you, except that presumably you are one of Jeff’s friends. Remember I’ve just arrived on the scene this morning, and not a blessed soul had time enough to gossip about you!”

“They wouldn’t,” said John ruefully. “There isn’t enough to say. But I was presumptuous, of course, to dare say what I did right out of the blue. I’m only a plain man, and you may be bound irrevocably to someone else.”

“I told you it was not final!” said Mary Elizabeth, driving smoothly up to the station and stopping the car.

“Yes,” said John, giving a quick startled look out at the station. “Yes, you said it was not final, but you gave me no hope that you would listen to me.”

“But I listened to you!”

“But you didn’t give me an answer.”

“Did you expect an answer?”

“I don’t know,” said John in a low tone. “I wanted one.”

“Just what did you say that needed answering?” Mary Elizabeth’s tone was sweet and courteous, and also the tiniest bit reserved.

“Why, I told you that I love you, and I asked you to marry me!”

“Did you?” said Mary Elizabeth, still sweetly and innocently. “I wasn’t sure. I thought I sort of dragged that out of you!”

He looked up quickly at her and caught that starry look in her eyes, and yet was there a twinkle of mischief, too? Could it be that she was still making fun of him, able to hold her own until the end?

“You surely didn’t expect me to tell you that I loved you, going down a church aisle at another girl’s wedding, did you?”

There was still the twinkle in her eyes, but there was something dear and tender in her voice, as if she were talking to the little boy he used to be long years ago when he dreamed her into his life someday in the far, far future.

“You couldn’t, of course. I wouldn’t expect you to feel the way I do,” said John humbly.

“I’m not saying how I feel,” said Mary Elizabeth, with her head held high. “But even if I feel it, you surely wouldn’t expect me to blurt it out that way right before the assembled multitude, would you?”

“No, I suppose not!” said John in a very dejected tone.

“As for marrying, people always have to have time to think that over, don’t they?”

“I suppose some people do. I didn’t!”

“But you should have, you know,” said Mary Elizabeth, still in that sweet tone in which one imparts knowledge to a small boy, very gently.

“I’m glad I didn’t!” said John quite suddenly, with a firm set of his jaw in the dark, that Mary Elizabeth could see because his profile was perfectly outlined against the bright light of the station platform.

“Yes, and so am I!” said Mary Elizabeth with an upward fling of her chin, ending in a little trill of a laugh with a lilting sound in it. “John Saxon, here comes your train, and you have to get your bags out! Do you really have to go tonight?”

“Yes, I really have to go!” said John through set teeth, giving Mary Elizabeth one wild look and springing out of the car.

He dashed to the back of the car, opened it, slung his bags down, gave a furtive glance down the track at the great yellow eye of light that was rushing toward them so speedily to part them, and before he could look into the car for a hasty farewell, he found Mary Elizabeth beside him.

“You haven’t given me your address,” he said breathlessly, measuring the distance of the track with another glance. “Tell me quick!”

“Here it is,” she said, slipping a small white envelope into his hand. “When am I—? When are you—? I mean—you’ll let me hear from you sometime?”

Her voice had a little shake in it, but she was looking steadily up with that brave smile on her lips—no, it wasn’t a mocking smile, he decided. His eyes lighted.

“I’ll write you tonight, at once!” he said. “Oh, I’d give anything if I only had another hour. How I have wasted my time!” He looked down at her tenderly.

“Yes,” she said sweetly, “you have, perhaps, but it was nice anyway, wasn’t it?”

He caught his breath at the sweetness of her voice and longed to catch her and hold her close, but dared he, now, without knowing how she would take it? His own reverence held him from it. And the train was slowing down a few steps away.

“Oh!” he breathed. “I love you!”

“But—” said Mary Elizabeth with a wistful little lifting of her lashes and that twinkle of a glance, “aren’t you even going to kiss me good-bye? Just friends often do that, you know!”

But the words were scarcely out of her mouth before his arms went eagerly round her and he laid his lips on hers.

“My darling!” he said. “Oh, my darling!”

Into the tenderness of his whispered words stabbed the sharpness of the conductor’s call.

“All aboard!”

John released her suddenly as if he were coming awake, seized his bags, and took three strides to the step of the nearest car, which was already beginning to move slowly.