Locked at last into her safe little stateroom, with a soft bed to lie on and no bothersome notes to be guarded, one would have thought she might have slept, but her brain kept time to the wheels, and her heart with her brain. She was going over and over the scenes of the eventful day, and living through each experience again, until she came to the moment when she looked up to find herself in Sidney Graham's arms, with her face against his shoulder. Her face glowed in the dark at the remembrance, and her heart thrilled wildly sweet with the memory of his look and tone, and all his carefulness for her. How wonderful that _he_ should have come so many miles to find her! That he should have been the one to find her first, with all those other men on the hunt. He had forged ahead and picked her up before any of the others had reached her. He had not been afraid to rush up to an armed villain and snatch her from her perilous position! He was a man among men! Never mind if he wasn't her own personal property! Never mind if there were others in his own world who might claim him later, he was hers for to-night! She would never forget it!
She slept at last, profoundly, with a smile upon her lips No dream of villains nor wild automobile rides came to trouble her thoughts. And when she woke in the home station with familiar sounds outside, and realized that a new day was before her, her heart was flooded with a happiness that her common sense found it hard to justify. She tried to steady herself while she made her toilet, but the face that was reflected rosily from the mirror in her little dressing room would smile contagiously back at her.
"Well, then, have it your own way for just one more day!" she said aloud to her face in the glass. "But to-morrow you must get back to common sense again!" Then she turned, fresh as a rose, and went out to meet her fellow travellers.
She went to breakfast with Sidney Graham, a wonderful breakfast in a wonderful place with fountains and palms and quiet, perfect service. Mr. Barnard had excused himself and hurried away to his home, promising to meet Shirley at the office at half-past nine. And so these two sat at a little round table by themselves and had sweet converse over their coffee. Shirley utterly forgot for the time that she was only a poor little stenographer working for her bread and living in a barn. Sidney Graham's eyes were upon her, in deep and unveiled admiration, his spirit speaking to hers through the quiet little commonplaces to which he must confine himself in this public place. It was not till the meal was over and he was settling his bill that Shirley suddenly came to herself and the color flooded her sweet face. What was she better than any other poor fool of a girl who let a rich man amuse himself for a few hours in her company and then let him carry her heart away with him to toss with his collection? She drew her dignity about her and tried to be distant as they went out to the street, but he simply did not recognize it at all. He just kept his tender, deferential manner, and smiled down at her with that wonderful, exalted look that made her dignity seem cheap; so there was nothing to do but look up as a flower would to the sun and be true to the best that was in her heart.