n drapery warehouse on his way to
the city of modes. He gave no information as to his profession or
business, and as I had not even returned his confidence by revealing
my name, this was not to be wondered at.

"Are you going on to Paris?" he said presently.

"Yes; and the sooner I get there the better I shall be pleased."

"Exactly," he smiled. "I am going, too. I have crossed the Channel
many times, but I have never before had such an experience as last
night's."

Then we began to compare notes of previous voyages, until a railway
official entered the buffet with a raucous, "Voyageurs pour Paris, en
voiture."

There was only one first-class carriage, and into this I immediately
jumped, and secured a corner. Mr. Watts followed me, and took the
other corner of the same seat. Miss Watts remained on the platform. It
was a corridor carriage, and the corridor happened to be on the far
side from the platform. Mr. Watts went out to explore the corridor. I
arranged myself in my seat, placed the jewel-case by my side, and my
mackintosh over my knees. Miss Watts stood idly in front of the
carriage door, tapping the platform with her umbrella.

"You do not accompany your brother, then?" I ventured.

"No. I'm staying in Calais, where I have an--an engagement." She
smiled plaintively at me.

Mr. Watts came back into the compartment, and, standing on the step,
said good-by to his sister, and embraced her. She kissed him
affectionately. Then, having closed the carriage door, he stolidly
resumed his seat, which was on the other side away from the door. We
had the compartment to ourselves.

"A nice girl," I reflected.

The train whistled, and a porter ran along to put the catches on all
the doors.

"Good-by; we're off," I said to Miss Watts.

"Monsieur," she said, and her face seemed to flush in the cold morning
light,--"monsieur." Was she, then, French, to address me like that?

She made a gesture as if she would say something to me of importance,
and I put my head out of the window.

"May I ask you to keep an eye on my brother?" she whispered.

"In what way?" I asked, somewhat astonished.

The train began to move, and she walked to keep level with me.

"Do not let him drink at any of the railway buffets on the journey; he
will be met at the Gare du Nord. He is addicted--"

"But how can I stop him if he wants to--"

She had an appealing look, and she was running now to keep pace with
the train.

"Ah, do what