Mrs.Daniels was feeling dreadfully, she informed me; and the house was like a grave.

Greatly excited at this unexpected move on Mr.Blake's part, I went home and packed my valise with something of the spirit of her who once said, under somewhat different circumstances I allow, "Whither thou goest I will go." The truth was, I had travelled so far and learned so little, that my professional pride was piqued.

That expression of Mr.Gryce still rankled, and nothing could soothe my injured spirit now but success.
Accordingly when Mr.Blake stepped up to the ticket office of the Hudson River Railroad next morning, to buy a ticket for Putney, a small town in the northern part of Vermont, he found beside him a spruce young drummer, or what certainly appeared such, who by some strange coincidence, wanted a ticket for the same place.

The fact did not seem in the least to surprise him, nor did he cast me a look beyond the ordinary glance of one stranger at another.

Indeed Mr.Blake had no appearance of being a suspicious man, nor do I think at this time, he had the remotest idea that he was either watched or followed; an ignorance of the truth which I took care to preserve by taking my seat in a different car from him and not showing myself again during the whole ride from New York to Putney..