Meredith Nicholson

“ A few students had boarded the Chicago train, but a greater number still waited on the farther platform. The girl in gray was surrounded by half a dozen students, all talking animatedly. As I walked toward them I could not justify my stupidity in mistaking a grown woman for a school-girl of fifteen or sixteen; but it was the tam-o’-shanter, the short skirt, the youthful joy in the outdoor world that had disguised her as effectually as Rosalind to the eyes of Orlando in the forest of Arden. ”

“ Glenarm.”
“To be sure; but there are times—”
“Yes, there are times when the odds seem rather heavy. I have noticed that myself.”
She smiled, but for an instant the sad look came into her eyes,—a look that vaguely but insistently suggested another time and place.
“I want you to come back,” I said boldly, for the train was very near, and I felt that the eyes of the Sisters were upon us. “You can not go away where I shall not find you!”
I did not know who this girl was, her home, or her relation to the school, but I knew that her life and mine had touched strangely ”

“ The somber Sisters patrolling the platform with their charges heeded us little.
“I had no idea you knew Arthur Pickering—when you were just Olivia in the tam-o’-shanter.”
“Maybe you think he wouldn’t have cared for my acquaintance—as Olivia in the tam-o’-shanter. Men are very queer!” ”