“What do you call the proper surroundings?” put in a new voice in answer to something that was said, which same drew my attention to limpid blue eyes, a Cupid’s bow mouth and a wealth of corn-colored hair. “These,” I finally achieved gallantly, gazing about the compartment and at my companions. A burst of applause followed. I was coming to. Yet I was still bewildered by the bouquet of faces about me. Already the idea of the dreary school-teachers had been dissipated: these were prize-winners. Look where I would I seemed to see a new type of prettiness confronting me. It was like being in the toils of those nymphs in the Ring of the Nibelungen, yet I had no desire to escape, wishing to stay now and see how I could “make out” as a Lothario. Indeed at this I worked hard. I did my best to gaze gayly and captivatingly into pretty eyes of various colors. They all gazed amusedly back. I was almost the only man; they were out for a lark. What would you? “If I had my wishes now I’d wish for just one thing,” I volunteered, expecting to arouse curiosity. “Which one?” asked the girl with the brown eyes and piquant little face who wished to travel forever. Her look was significant. “This one,” I said, running my finger around in a circle to include them all and yet stopping at none. “We’re not won yet, though,” said the girl smirkily. “Couldn’t you be?” I asked smartly. “Not all at once, anyhow. Could we?” she asked, speaking for the crowd. I found myself poor at repartee. “It will seem all at once, though, when it happens, won’t it?” I finally managed to return. “Isn’t it always ‘so sudden’?” I was surprising myself. “Aren’t you smart!” said the blue-eyed girl beside me. “Oh, that’s clever, isn’t it?” said the girl with the corn-colored hair. I gazed in her direction. Beside her sat a maiden whom I had but dimly noticed. She was in white, with a mass of sunny red hair. Her eyes were almond-shaped, liquid and blue-gray. Her nose was straight and fine, her lips sweetly curved. She seemed bashful and retiring. At her bosom was a bouquet of pink roses, but one had come loose. “Oh, your flowers!” I exclaimed. “Let me give you one,” she replied, laughing. I had not heard her voice before and I liked it. “Certainly,” I said. Then to the others: “You see, I’ll take anything I can get.” She drew a rose from her bosom and held it out toward me. “Won’t you put it on?” I asked smartly. She leaned over and began to fasten it. She worked a moment and then looked at me, making, as I thought, a sheep’s eye at me. “You may have my place,” said the girl next me, feigning to help her, and she took it. The conversation waxed even freer after this, although for me I felt that it had now taken a definite turn.... I was talking for her benefit. We were still in the midst of this when the conductor passed through and after him Mr. Dean, middle-aged, dusty, assured, advisory.