Una saw her last of Warden Forest through a mist of tears; while a tree remained in sight her face was turned toward it, and in silence she bade farewell to the leafy world in which her life had passed with so much uneventfulness--in silence listened to the soughing of the breeze that seemed to voice her a sad good-bye. Her companion sat in silence, too, holding the soft, warm hand which clung to hers with an eloquent supplication for protection and sympathy. But youth and tears are foes who cannot abide long together, and by the time the little railway village of Wermesley was reached, Una's eyes were full of interest and curiosity. As the fly rumbled over the unkept streets toward the station, past the few tame shops and the dead-and-alive hotel, her color came and went in rapid fluctuations. "Is--is this the world?" she asked, in a low voice. Mrs. Davenant looked at her with a smile, the first which Una had seen on the thin, pale face. She had yet to learn that Mrs. Davenant never smiled in her son's presence. "The world, my dear?" she replied. "Well, yes; but a very quiet part of it." "And yet there are so many people in the streets, and--ah!" she drew back with an exclamation as the train shrieked into the station. Mrs. Davenant started--she was nervous herself, and had not yet realized that she had for companion one who was as ignorant of our modern high-pressure civilization as a North American Indian. "That is the train; don't be frightened, my dear," she said. "Forgive me. I know it is the train--I have read about it. I am not frightened," she added, quietly, and with a touch of gentle dignity that puzzled Mrs. Davenant. "My dear," she said, "I am not finding fault, or chiding you, it is only natural that you should be surprised, but you will find a great deal more to be surprised at when we get to London." Una inclined her head as she mentally registered a resolution to conceal, at any cost, any surprise or alarm she might feel on the rest of the journey. Nevertheless, she kept very close to Mrs. Davenant as they passed to the train, and shrank back into the corner of the carriage driven there by the stupid stare of one or two of the passengers. "Now we are all right," said Mrs. Davenant, gently. "We shall not sleep now till we get to town." "To London--we are going to London?" asked Una in a low voice. "Yes," said Mrs. Davenant. "That is where I live; I live in a great square at the West-end." "I know the points of the compass," said Una, with a smile; "my father taught me," and she sighed--"poor father!" "I think your father must be a very clever man, my dear. He appears to have taught you a great deal--I mean"--she hesitated--"you speak so correctly." "Do I?" said Una. "Yes, my father is very clever. He knows everything." "It is very curious," she said. "I mean--I hope you won't be offended--but men in his position are not generally so well informed."