"He didn't want to re-cog-nize me," she persisted, throwing a bitter emphasis on the middle of the word. "He didn't even look at me." I wanted to ask her some questions about the Collingsby family; but I did not like to do so while one of its members was so near me, for I fancied that, deeply as he was absorbed in the newspaper, he heard every word that was said by the garrulous old lady, who appeared to have been talking more for his benefit than mine in some of her remarks. But the appearance of the conductor at the forward end of the car, taking up the tickets, changed the current of her thoughts, and she commenced a violent demonstration upon her bag, her pocket, and her bundles, in search of her ticket. Most of the passengers produced their tickets, conscious, perhaps, how nervous it makes the "gentlemanly conductor" when compelled to wait for excited men or women to search through all their pockets, and all their portable effects, for the evidence that they had paid their fare. I noticed that Mr. Collingsby continued to gaze unmoved at the columns of his newspaper, and when the conductor reached him, he slowly drew off his kid glove, and deliberately took from his pocket-book the ticket, which his dignity did not permit him to have ready before. "Tickets, if you please," said the conductor, as he politely bowed to Mr. Collingsby, and turned to the less important people in the car. I gave up mine, and received a check; but Mrs. Whippleton was still ransacking her bags and parcels. "As I live and breathe, I've lost my ticket, or else somebody's stole it!" exclaimed the old lady, glancing again towards Mr. Collingsby, who must have been, in her estimation, the root of all evil and all mischief. "Did you buy one?" asked the conductor. "Sartin I did," protested Mrs. Whippleton; "and it took nigh on to every cent of money I had. I hain't got enough left to buy my dinner." "Look round and find it," added the official. "Look round! I've looked into everything I have. You hustled all my things over, and I reckon it's your fault, more'n 'tis mine." "Look again, and I will come back," added the conductor, as he passed on his way. "You hain't seen nothin' of my ticket--have you?" said Mrs. Whippleton, as she commenced another onslaught upon her pockets and bundles. "I have not." But I did the best I could to assist her in the search. I got out of my seat, and looked upon the floor in the vicinity. Neither of us was successful in finding the lost pasteboard, for which the handsome sum of twelve dollars had been expended. I really pitied the old lady, for she did not appear to be in good circumstances herself, judging by the quality of her clothing and her baggage. What seemed to make it worse to me was the fact that she had spent all her money. "I don't see what's become on't!" said she, in despair. "Are you sure you bought one?" I asked, rather for the want of anything else to say than because this was the most pertinent question.