I thought this day would never come, but it did, and now I must call up some of the girls and tell them goodbye. Bruce Patterson and Don Kellogg both said they would be down to the station and see me off. I hope they will pay a little attention to Kate.
Sunday, August 27: We are on our way at last, and now nothing can stop us only a train wreck or something; and the man in charge of the trip says there is no danger of that, as the cars are all made of steel; and even if we had a collision it could not smash up the steel cars; and besides, the railroad has a double track most of the way, and the cars going one way run on one track, and the cars going the other way run on the other track. His name is Mr. Garrett, and he is grand to us; always asking if there is something he can do, and how are we getting along, etc.
Bruce Patterson and Don Kellogg were down to the train last night to see me off. Bruce brought me a perfectly dear bouquet of carnations and Don Kellogg gave me a big, five-pound box of chocolates. I wish one of them had thought to of brought something for Kate; and I was terribly embarrassed when there was no one there to see her off only her sister and her brother-in-law; but I tried to make it easy for her by pretending the boys had come to say goodbye to both of us, and that the candy and flowers were meant for her as well as I; but, of course, she knew better. I was also embarrassed by Bruce and Don both being there together; and they simply looked daggers at each other. Í hope they did not quarrel or do anything foolish after we left. I tried to treat them both alike, but Don was the boldest of the two, and followed us right into the car; and right in front of Kate he asked me to kiss him goodbye.
“Don,” I said, “you know that is impossible. I will never allow a man to kiss me till I am his fiancéd bride.”
Poor boy, I could not help from feeling sorry for him. He looked like he had lost his last friend.
“Kate,” I said, after he had got off the train and we had started, “I sometimes wish I was as homely as a mud fence or something. It makes me feel perfectly terrible to have a man look at me like Don did just now. Maybe I am too softhearted.”
She did not say anything, and I was sorry I had said anything about it, as probably it reminded her that nobody had been down to see her off only her sister and brother-in-law. I would not hurt her feelings for the world. I hate to hurt anybody, and that is why I feel so sorry for Bruce and Don, because, though I care for both a great deal as a friend, I do not believe I could ever love either one of them enough to marry them. The man I marry must take me by storm; and besides, I seriously doubt if I will ever marry, as I love my freedom above everything.
Our party is divided into two sleeping-cars. When we got on the train last night most of the seats had been made into beds for the night. Kate and I had No. 3; and when I looked inside it and saw how small it was, I remarked that I did not see how we were going to be able to sleep together in it on account of Kate being so large; though, of course, I did not say that. The colored man who takes care of the car said he had also fixed us up a bed up above the one below, and one of us could sleep up there.
Heavens! I remarked. “I would be afraid of rolling out.”
So Kate said she would not mind sleeping up there at all; and when I asked her if she really meant it, she said she did, so I said if she would promise to let me sleep up there tonight I would let her sleep there last night. She had to climb up to it on a funny little ladder and undress after she got up there. But, really, it was less embarrassing for her than I, as I had to undress right down where everybody was walking through behind a curtain. When I finally did get in bed, I hardly slept at all, as there was so much noise and jar.
It was perfectly terrible dressing this morning. All the ladies have to wash and do their hair in one dinky little room, with the train going all the time, and you can hardly stand up. I am afraid I look a fright, but there is one comfort. At least “there are others.”
Mr. Garrett says there are about thirty-five people in our party. Most of them are elderly married couples around forty, and some of their children. Then there is two old girls that look like they had come out of the ark or something. One of them was in the dressing-room while I was there this morning, and we were both using the looking-glass at the same time, and she kept pushing me and annoying me till I lost my temper, and asked her if she could not act like a lady, even if she wasn’t one.
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