eer. You will agree with me,
I am sure, that I did wisely to go to him.

I had an adventure upon the way to Bradfield. The carriage in which
I was travelling contained a party of three, at whom I took the most
casual of glances before settling down to the daily paper. There was an
elderly lady, with a bright rosy face, gold spectacles, and a dash of
red velvet in her bonnet. With her were two younger people, who I took
to be her son and her daughter--the one a quiet, gentle-looking girl of
twenty or so, dressed in black, and the other a short, thick-set young
fellow, a year or two older. The two ladies sat by each other in the
far corner, and the son (as I presume him to be) sat opposite me. We may
have travelled an hour or more without my paying any attention to
this little family party, save that I could not help hearing some talk
between the two ladies. The younger, who was addressed as Winnie, had,
as I noticed, a very sweet and soothing voice. She called the elder
"mother," which showed that I was right as to the relationship.

I was sitting, then, still reading my paper, when I was surprised to
get a kick on the shins from the young fellow opposite. I moved my legs,
thinking that it was an accident, but an instant afterwards I received
another and a harder one. I dropped my paper with a growl, but the
moment that I glanced at him I saw how the matter stood. His foot was
jerking spasmodically, his two hands clenched, and drumming against his
breast, while his eyes were rolling upwards until only the rim of his
iris was to be seen. I sprang upon him, tore open his collar, unbuttoned
his waistcoat, and pulled his head down upon the seat. Crash went one of
his heels through the carriage window, but I contrived to sit upon his
knees while I kept hold of his two wrists.

"Don't be alarmed!" I cried, "it's epilepsy, and will soon pass!"

Glancing up, I saw that the little girl was sitting very pale and quiet
in the corner. The mother had pulled a bottle out of her bag and was
quite cool and helpful.

"He often has them," said she, "this is bromide."

"He is coming out," I answered; "you look after Winnie."

I blurted it out because her head seemed to rock as if she were going
off; but the absurdity of the thing struck us all next moment, and the
mother burst into a laugh in which the daughter and I joined. The son
had opened his eyes and had ceased to struggle.

"I must really beg your pardon," said I, as I helpe