is poor substitute of the confirmed nicotinist for a smoke
failed to satisfy his cravings. He whispered a word to his middle-aged
companion, who nodded, and then with a mutter of apology to Miss Smith
for troubling her he scrouged out into the aisle and disappeared in the
direction of the smoker.

Left alone, the woman very soon began to yawn. It was to be judged that
the stuffy air of the car made her dozy. She kept her eyes open with an
effort, her head lolling in spite of her drowsy efforts to hold it
straight, yet all the while bearing herself after the fashion of one
determined not to fall asleep.

A voice spoke in Miss Smith's ear--a low and well-bred and musical
voice.

"I beg your pardon," it said hesitatingly, then stopped.

Miss Smith turned her head toward the speaker and now for the first time
had a fair chance to look into the face of the voice's owner. She looked
and saw the oval of a most comely face, white and drawn as though by
exhaustion or by deep sorrow, or perhaps by both. For all their pallor
the cheeks were full and smooth; the brow was broad and low; the mouth
firm and sweet. From between the tall collars of the cape the throat,
partly revealed, rose as a smooth fair column. What made the girl almost
beautiful were her eyes--eyes big and brown with a fire in them to
suggest the fine high mettle of a resolute character, but out of them
there looked--or else the other was woefully wrong--a great grief, a
great distress bravely borne. To herself--all in that instant of
looking--she said mentally that these were the saddest, most courageous
eyes she ever had seen set in a face so young and seemingly bespeaking
so healthful a body. For a moment Miss Smith was so held by what she saw
that she forgot to speak.

"I beg your pardon," repeated the girl. "I wonder if you would be good
enough to bring me a drink of water--if it isn't too much trouble. I'm
so thirsty. I can't very well go myself--there are reasons why I can't.
And I don't think she"--with a sidelong glance toward the nodding figure
opposite--"I don't think she would feel that she could go and leave me.'

"Certainly I will," said Miss Smith. "It's not a bit of bother."

"What is it?" The woman had been roused to full wakefulness by the
movement of the stranger in rising.

"Please don't move," said Miss Smith. "Your young lady is thirsty and
I'm going to bring her a drink of water--that's all."

"It's very good of you, miss," said the