She pinned Grace's address inside her dress, concealed her purse there, and was put into the train by Robert, who gave the guard charge of her, very much to her own indignation, "as though I was a little parcel," she said to herself. She was in a second-class carriage and met with a few adventures; she was so "stand-off" to the two or three strangers who got in or out that they thought her a most disagreeable old woman, but Jean was only on her guard. When they changed carriages and Jean was once more seated, a young woman passed and re-passed and finally got into the carriage and sat down opposite to her. She was very fair and had a lovely pink colour in her cheeks. She fidgeted a good deal, got up and shook her dress, and finally said, in accents of dismay, "Oh, what shall I do? I have lost my ticket and I have no money with me!" Jean, who was alone in the carriage, eyed her attentively but spoke not a word. The young woman began to cry. "Help me!" she said; "help me! I am alone and friendless!" Jean still said nothing; she noticed that as they stopped at a station her sobs subsided and that she drew back into a corner and avoided observation. This roused her suspicions, and, when they started again, the person, hitherto in such despair, began to grow not a little impertinent. "I wonder if people pay by weight in this train?" she said, airily, determined to unlock the silent lips of the stout and much wrapped-up figure in front of her. This taunt about her size did rouse Jean. "If you've _paid_ for your ticket you probably know," she said, in her best English, and extremely indignant. This answer completely extinguished all wish for conversation on the part of her opposite neighbour, but she still fidgeted about, trying first one seat and then another, and, sitting down beside Jean, she fumbled about and pressed against her, altogether making herself most objectionable. The journey came to an end; the ticket-collector came to the door and Jean put her hand in her pocket--her purse was safe, luckily, in the front of her dress--the ticket was gone! Greatly to her surprise the young woman immediately produced one. Jean hunted in vain, her ticket was nowhere to be found, and her dismay was great. She had a confused notion that she was in some way breaking the law, and, though outwardly she kept calm, she was in a most fearful state really, and she did not know what to do. The guard fortunately came up to see what the stoppage was, and was accompanied by a policeman. "What was the matter?" he asked. Before Jean could answer, the policeman stretched out his hand and touched the young woman, who had been vainly trying to get out. She turned pale--through what Jean now saw was paint. "You are wanted," and, turning to Jean, he said, "has she taken anything of yours, ma'am?" Looking at the ticket the guard laughed and answered, "She has taken your ticket, old lady. '_From Renton to London._' She only got in an hour ago."