"Nora, me pet," said O'Halloran, "haven't ye any esprission of
gratichood?"

Miss O'Halloran raised her face, and looked at me with earnest eyes.

"Indeed--indeed," she said--"it is not from want of gratitude that I am
silent. My gratitude is too strong for words. Lieutenant Macrorie needs
no assurance of mine, I know, to convince him how I admire his noble
conduct--"

The sound of her voice roused me from my own abstraction.

"Oh, of course," said I, "a fellow knows all that sort of thing, you
know; and I feel so glad about the service I was able to render you,
that I'm positively grateful to you for being there. Odd, though
--wasn't it?--that I didn't recognize you. But then, you see, the fact
is, you looked so different then from what you do now. Really, you seem
like another person--you do, by Jove!"

At this Miss O'Halloran looked down, and seemed embarrassed.

"But what made you clear out so soon from the Frenchman's?" said I,
suddenly. "You've no idea how it bothered me. By Jove! it didn't seem
altogether fair to me, you know. And then you didn't even leave your
address."

Miss O'Halloran's confusion seemed to increase. She murmured something
about having to hurry home--pressed for time--fear of her friends being
anxious--and all that.

Then I asked her anxiously if she had been any the worse for it.

"Oh, no," she said; "no ill consequences had resulted."

By this time I had sense enough to perceive that the subject was an
extremely unpleasant one. A moment's further thought showed me that it
couldn't be any thing else. Unpleasant! I should think so. Was it not
suggestive of sorrow and of despair? Had she not witnessed things which
were never to be forgotten? Had she not seen her hapless driver go down
beneath the icy waters? Had she not herself stood face to face with an
awful doom? Had she not twice--yes, and thrice--tasted of the
bitterness of death?

"I beg pardon," said I, as these thoughts came to me--"it's a painful
subject. I spoke thoughtlessly; but I won't allude to it again. It was
bad enough for me; but it must have been infinitely worse for you. The
fact is, my curiosity got the better of my consideration for your
feelings."

"That's thrue," said O'Halloran; "it's a peenful subjict."

At this Miss O'Halloran looked immensely relieved. She raised her head,
and involuntarily cast upon me a touching look of gratitude. Yes; it
must, indeed, have been a painful subject. The consciousness