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“But I’ve heard all about you now, my dear; and I’m glad to have as section-mate such a dainty little ‘parcel.’ I’m sure we’ll be the best of friends before we reach our parting-place at Chicago.”

So they proved to be. So, indeed, did everybody in the car. “Little Parcel” was made so much of by the grown-up travellers that she might have been spoiled had the journey continued longer than it did. But at Chicago a change was made. The express agent put her into a carriage, and whisked her away to another station, another train, and a new, strange set of people. Not a face with which she had become familiar during the first stage of her long journey was visible. Even Bob had disappeared, and in his stead was a gray-haired porter who grumbled at each of the demands, such as it had become natural for her to make upon the friendly Bob.

There was no Red Kimono in the section opposite; not even a be-spectacled Upper Berth lady to make whimsical comments on her neighbors; and the new agent to whom she had been transferred looked cross, as if he were in a dreadful hurry and hated to be bothered. Altogether things were changed for the worse, and Josephine’s heart would perhaps have broken if it hadn’t been for the dear companionship of Rudanthy, who smiled and slept in a placid waxen manner that was restfully familiar.