rnt a little. The conductor
called me in this morning to interpret. These people come from the
Russian side of the Carpathians."

"Then you are a Canadian yourself?--from the West?"

"I was born in Manitoba."

"I am quite in love with your country!"

Elizabeth paused beside the steps leading to their car. As she spoke,
her brown eyes lit up, and all her small features ran over, suddenly,
with life and charm.

"Yes, it's a good country," said the Canadian, rather drily. "It's going
to be a great country. Is this your first visit?"

But the conversation was interrupted by a reproachful appeal from
Yerkes.

"Breakfast, my lady, has been hotted twice."

The Canadian looked at Elizabeth curiously, lifted his hat, and went
away.

"Well, if this doesn't take the cake!" said Philip Gaddesden, throwing
himself disconsolately into an armchair. "I bet you, Elizabeth, we
shall be here forty-eight hours. And this damp goes through one."

The young man shivered, as he looked petulantly out through the open
doorway of the car to the wet woods beyond. Elizabeth surveyed him with
some anxiety. Like herself he was small, and lightly built. But his
features were much less regular than hers; the chin and nose were
childishly tilted, the eyes too prominent. His bright colour,
however--(mother and sister could well have dispensed with that touch of
vivid red on the cheeks!)--his curly hair, and his boyish ways made him
personally attractive; while in his moments of physical weakness, his
evident resentment of Nature's treatment of him, and angry determination
to get the best of her, had a touch of something that was
pathetic--that appealed.

Elizabeth brought a rug and wrapped it round him. But she did not try to
console him; she looked round for something or someone to amuse him.

On the line, just beyond the railed platform of the car, a group of men
were lounging and smoking. One of them was her acquaintance of the
morning. Elizabeth, standing on the platform waited till he turned in
her direction--caught his eye, and beckoned. He came with alacrity. She
stooped over the rail to speak to him.

"I'm afraid you'll think it very absurd"--her shy smile broke
again--"but do you think there's anyone in this train who plays bridge?"

He laughed.

"Certainly. There is a game going on at this moment in the car behind
you."

"Is it--is it anybody--we could ask to luncheon?--who'd come, I mean,"
she added, hurriedly.

"I shou