CHAPTER VIII.
"Next stood hypocrisy, with holy leer, Soft smiling and demurely looking down, But hid the dagger underneath the gown." -- DRYDEN.
While old mammy told her story to her three listeners in the veranda at Ion, a train was speeding southward, bearing Edward and Zoe on their homeward way.
Zoe, in charmingly becoming and elegant traveling attire, her fond young husband by her side, ready to anticipate every wish and gratify it if in his power, was extremely comfortable, and found great enjoyment, now in chatting gaily with him, now sitting silent by his side watching the flying panorama of forest and prairie, hill, valley, rock, river and plain.
At length her attention was attracted to something going on within the car.
"Tickets!" cried the conductor, passing down the aisle, "Tickets!" Edward handed out his own and his wife's.

They were duly punched and given back.
The conductor moved on, repeating his call, "Tickets ?" Up to this moment Zoe had scarcely noticed who occupied the seat immediately behind herself and Edward, but now turning her head, she saw there two young women of pleasing appearance, evidently foreigners.

Both were looking anxiously up at the conductor who held their tickets in his hand.
"You are on the wrong road," he was saying; "these are through-tickets for Utah." "What does he say?
something is wrong ?" asked the younger of the two girls, addressing her companion in Danish.
"I do not understand, Alma," replied the other, speaking in the same tongue.

"Ah, did we but know English! I do not understand, sir; I do not know one word you say," she repeated with a hopeless shake of the head, addressing the conductor.
"Do you know what she says, sir ?" asked the man, turning to Edward.
"From her looks and gestures it is evident that she does not understand English," replied Edward, "and I think that is what she says.

Suppose you try her with German." "Can't, sir; speak no language but my mother tongue.