The Sleeping-Car | Page 3

Yes. Good-night.
MRS. ROBERTS. Good-night, aunty. [After a pause of some minutes.]
Aunty!
AUNT MARY. Well, what?
MRS. ROBERTS. Do you think it's perfectly safe?
[She rises in her berth, and looks up over the edge of the upper.]
AUNT MARY. I suppose so. It's a well-managed road. They've got the
air- brake, I've heard, and the Miller platform, and all those horrid
things. What makes you introduce such unpleasant subjects?
MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, I don't mean accidents. But, you know, when
you turn, it does creak so awfully. I shouldn't mind myself; but the
baby--
AUNT MARY. Why, child, do you think I'm going to break through? I
couldn't. I'm one of the lightest sleepers in the world.
MRS. ROBERTS. Yes, I know you're a light sleeper; but--but it doesn't
seem quite the same thing, somehow.
AUNT MARY. But it is; it's quite the same thing, and you can be
perfectly easy in your mind, my dear. I should be quite as loth to break
through as you would to have me. Good-night.
MRS. ROBERTS. Yes; good-night, Aunty!
AUNT MARY. Well?
MRS. ROBERTS. You ought to just see him, how he's lying. He's a
perfect log. _Couldn't_ you just bend over, and peep down at him a
moment?
AUNT MARY. Bend over! It would be the death of me. Good-night.
MRS. ROBERTS. Good-night. Did you put the glass into my bag or
yours? I feel so very thirsty, and I want to go and get some water. I'm

sure I don't know why I should be thirsty. Are you, Aunt Mary? Ah!
here it is. Don't disturb yourself, aunty; I've found it. It was in my bag,
just where I'd put it myself. But all this trouble about Willis has made
me so fidgety that I don't know where anything is. And now I don't
know how to manage about the baby while I go after the water. He's
sleeping soundly enough now; but if he should happen to get into one
of his rolling moods, he might tumble out on to the floor. Never mind,
aunty, I've thought of something. I'll just barricade him with these bags
and shawls. Now, old fellow, roll as much as you like. If you should
happen to hear him stir, aunty, won't you--aunty! Oh, dear! she's asleep
already; and what shall I do? [While MRS. ROBERTS continues
talking, various notes of protest, profane and otherwise, make
themselves heard from different berths.] I know. I'll make a bold dash
for the water, and be back in an instant, baby. Now, don't you move,
you little rogue. [She runs to the water-tank at the end of the car, and
then back to her berth.] Now, baby, here's mamma again. Are you all
right, mamma's own?
[A shaggy head and bearded face are thrust from the curtains of the
next berth.]
THE STRANGER. Look here, ma'am. I don't want to be disagreeable
about this thing, and I hope you won't take any offence; but the fact is,
I'm half dead for want of sleep, and if you'll only keep quiet now a little
while, I'll promise not to speak above my breath if ever I find you on a
sleeping-car after you've come straight through from San Francisco,
day and night, and not been able to get more than about a quarter of
your usual allowance of rest--I will indeed.
MRS. ROBERTS. I'm very sorry that I've disturbed you, and I'll try to
be more quiet. I didn't suppose I was speaking so loud; but the cars
keep up such a rattling that you never can tell how loud you are
speaking. Did I understand you to say that you were from California?
THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma'am.
MRS. ROBERTS. San Francisco?
THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma'am.
MRS. ROBERTS. Thanks. It's a terribly long journey, isn't it? I know
quite how to feel for you. I've a brother myself coming on. In fact we
expected him before this. [She scans his face as sharply as the lamp-
light will allow, and continues, after a brief hesitation.] It's always such

a silly question to ask a person, and I suppose San Francisco is a large
place, with a great many people always coming and going, so that it
would be only one chance in a thousand if you did.
THE CALIFORNIAN (patiently). Did what, ma'am?
MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, I was just wondering if it was possible--but of
course it isn't, and it's very flat to ask--that you'd ever happened to meet
my brother there. His name is Willis Campbell.
THE CALIFORNIAN (with more interest). Campbell? Campbell? Yes,
I know a man of that name. But I disremember his first name. Little
low fellow--pretty chunky?
MRS. ROBERTS. I don't know. Do you mean short and stout?
THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma'am.
MRS.