"How would it be possible for a man in his senses to prefer me?" she thought, raising her eyes to a delicate, bell-hung minaret that pierced the cloudless sky. This novel humility impressed her with gravity.
But she had reached her destination. She moved up with the line to the ticket office that lay directly in her path, and bought her bit of pasteboard mechanically. In a moment more the movement of her fellow-passengers had brought her to the base of the wheel. Those who have stood in that position know the effect of looking straight up. Mildred, already feeling small, experienced a painful physical sense of being overwhelmed. The monster had paused for its cars to be filled, and she shrank from the prospect before her with unprecedented sensations. If she allowed herself to be shut up in that glass cab, it meant that two flights of two hundred and fifty feet skyward must be taken ere she could regain her liberty.
"I believe I am trying to be nervous," she said to herself coldly. "I did not know I was speaking truth to Jack this morning."
Oh, if only she were not the vainest and most obstinate of girls, this trip would be a pleasure instead of a pain!
The faint, steady color in her cheeks faded, but she walked into the car determinedly, and taking one of its swinging chairs looked steadily through the glass front. The seats filled, the door was closed, and the scarcely perceptible motion began.
The roof of the next car began to swing into view. The inexorableness of the journey began to impress itself upon Mildred’s mind. She was trying to turn away from the thought, when a well-known voice set her beating heart to throbbing faster.
"Why, this is fortunate," it said, with studied carelessness.
She started and lifted her eager eyes. There was Jack Van Tassel looking down upon her, triumphant, but as usual uncertain of his reception.
It has been said before that Mr. Van Tassel was a good-looking young man; but the radiance which seemed to Mildred now to invest every feature of his face, and each dark hair of his head, was certainly the figment of an excited imagination.
"Why, Jack," she gasped, and clasped her hands tightly in her lap for fear they might tell too much.
"You are pale," he said, and stooped with tender concern.