There is a code of signals in use amongst young people situated as these were, far more intelligible than that employed by her Majesty's Navy or the Royal Yacht Squadron. They never shook hands, they exchanged no good-bye, but Helen hoisted something in reply to his flag of distress that appeared perfectly satisfactory to both. Though Miss Ross looked longingly after him as he went away, Frank never turned to meet her glance; and Helen, thoroughly enjoying the homeward trip at sunset, seemed in better spirits and more like herself than she had been all day. Mrs. Lascelles was puzzled. She had missed the exchange of signals, and could not make it out. CHAPTER XIII. SUNDAY IN LONDON. There is a late train from Maidenhead to Paddington that always reminds me of Charon's bark chartered to carry deceased passengers across the Styx. It seems, like that fatal ferry-boat, to fix a limit between two separate stages of existence,--the river, the flowers, the cup, the pleasant friends, the tender well-wisher, in short, "the bright precincts of the cheerful day," and that dark region, forbidding though unavoidable, where we meet our fellow-creatures on more equal, more practical, more distant, and more uncomfortable terms. Goldthred, who was obliged to be in London the same night, sank into the lowest depths of despondency while bidding adieu to Mrs. Lascelles and her party, as they embarked under a purple sunset for their homeward voyage. He felt sadly alone in the world, even at the station, and getting into a vast and gloomy compartment, of which he was sole occupant, under a dim lamp, began to reflect seriously on life and its vexations. His cigars were done, his boots were wet, he suffered from headache, heartache, and premonitory symptoms of a dreadful disorder called the fidgets. Had he only known that Frank Vanguard, who got in at Slough, was in the very next carriage, how gladly would he have communicated with that migratory young officer, by knocking, shouting, or any other riotous mode of attracting attention; but, for aught he could tell, there was no passenger in the train but himself, and the sense of solitude became nearly insupportable. Passing Hanwell, he found himself envying the unfortunate inmates their varied society, and the liveliness of their manners. Goaded at last by his reflections, and summoning that most daring of all courage which is furnished by despair, he resolved to turn over a new leaf, to assert himself and his own value, to push the siege briskly, and asking Mrs. Lascelles an important question point-blank, stand or fall by her answer like a man. _Se faire valoir_, he well knew, was the winning game; but, alas! the more precious the heart the lower the price it seems to place on itself, and Goldthred, with all his short-comings, possessed in his character a vein of the true metal, which makes men honest servants if not successful masters. Taking counsel, then, of his very fears, he determined to open