[Illustration:  "He stared at her.  His elbow sagged away from the window; the whole person of Noble Dill seemed near collapse."]

So this observed lady stopped and observed Noble, who in return observed her not at all, being but semi-conscious.  Looked upon thoughtfully, it is a coincidence that we breathe; certainly it is a mighty coincidence that we speak to one another and comprehend; for these are true marvels.  But what petty interlacings of human action so pique our sense of the theatrical that we call them coincidences and are astonished!  That Julia should arrive during Noble’s long process of buying a ticket to go to her was stranger than that she stopped to look at him, though still not comparable in strangeness to the fact that either of them, or any living creature, stood upon the whirling earth;—­yet when Noble Dill comprehended what was happening he was amazed.

She spoke to him.

“Noble!” she said.

He stared at her.  His elbow sagged away from the window; the whole person of Noble Dill seemed near collapse.  He shook; he had no voice.

“I just this minute got off the train,” she said.  “Are you going away somewhere?”

“No,” he whispered; then obtained command of a huskiness somewhat greater in volume.  “I’m just standing here.”

“I told the porter to get me a taxicab,” she said.  “If you’re going home for dinner I’ll drop you at your house.”

“I—­I’m—­I——­” His articulation encountered unsurmountable difficulties, but Julia had been with him through many such trials aforetime.  She said briskly, “I’m awfully hungry and I want to get home.  Come on—­if you like?”

He walked waveringly at her side through the station, and followed her into the dim interior of the cab, which became fragrant of violets—­an emanation at once ineffable and poisonous.

“I’m so glad I happened to run across you,” she said, as they began to vibrate tremulously in unison with the fierce little engine that drew them.  “I want to hear all the news.  Nobody knows I’m home.  I didn’t write or telegraph to a soul; and I’ll be a complete surprise to father and everybody—­I don’t know how pleasant a one! You didn’t seem so frightfully glad to see me, Noble!”

“Am I?” he whispered.  “I mean—­I mean—­I mean:  Didn’t I?”

“No!” she laughed.  “You looked—­you looked shocked!  It couldn’t have been because I’m ill or anything, because I’m not; and if I were you couldn’t have told it through these two veils.  Possibly I’d better take your expression as a compliment.”  She paused, then asked hesitatingly, “Shall I?”

This was the style for which the Atwaters held Julia responsible; but they were mistaken:  she was never able to control it.  Now she went cheerily on:  “Perhaps not, as you don’t answer.  I shouldn’t be so bold!  Do you suppose anybody at all will be glad to see me?”

“I—­I——­” He seemed to hope that words would come in their own good time.