She sprang to the step railing and leaned out in time to see her wonderful hat whirl against the corner of the car, hold there an instant with the pressure of the wind, then slide down, draw under, and drop across the rail, where passing wheels ground it to pulp.
Kate stood very still a second, then she reached up and tried to pat the disordered strands of hair into place.

She turned and went back into the day coach, opened the bandbox, and put on the sailor.

She resumed her old occupation of thinking things over.

All the joy had vanished from the day and the trip.

Looking forward, it had seemed all right to defy custom and Nancy Ellen's advice, and do as she pleased.
Looking backward, she saw that she had made a fool of herself in the estimation of everyone in the car by not wearing the sailor, which was suitable for her journey, and would have made no such mark for a whirling wind.
She found travelling even easier than any one had told her.