As she got off the train at Reifsville the loafers about the little station and about the General Store across the road divined, without knowing just why, that she was too "different," somehow, to be a "lady agent"; not young enough to be an applicant for the school; and too something-else-quite-indefinable to be a possible visitor to any family of the village. So what was there left for her to be? Why was she here? They did not usually have any difficulty in "sizing up" the few daily arrivals by the train. As she walked out of the station and up the one street of the village, their sleepy eyes followed her with mild curiosity. That any "female" could be very simply dressed and yet not look…
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