The stage-coach is a thing of the past." "I wish it might be, for me!" rejoined the stranger.
"Unfortunately, I am obliged to go West from here over the National Road, to look at some lands I own out in Indiana.

I very much regret--" There was by this time yet more expectancy in his voice.

He still bowed, with respectful glances bent upon the lady.

No presentation came, although in the easy habit of the place and time, such courtesy might perhaps have been expected.

Why this stiffness among fellow travelers on a little river packet?
[Illustration: He still bowed, with respectful glances.] The tall man was not without a certain grave audacity.