To Una's amazement the train seemed to glide over the tops of houses, houses so thick that there seemed but two, or three inches between them. With suppressed excitement--she had resolved to express no surprise or fear--she watched through the window. Sometimes she caught sight of streets thronged with people, and with commingled alarm and curiosity, wondered what had happened to draw them all together so. She would not ask Mrs. Davenant, for wearied by her double journey, she was leaning back with closed eyes. Suddenly the train stopped--stopped amidst the noise and confusion of a large terminus--Mrs. Davenant woke, a porter came to the door, received instructions as to the luggage and handed them out. Notwithstanding her resolution, Una felt herself turning pale. From Warden Forest to a London railway station. "Keep close to me, dear," said Mrs. Davenant, who seemed only nervous and helpless in her son's presence. "Come, there is a cab." In silence Una followed. Men--and women, too,--turned to look at the tall, graceful figure in its plain white dress, and stared at the lovely face, with its half-frightened, half-curious, downcast eyes, and Una felt the eyes fixed on her. "Why--why do they look at me so?" she asked, when they had entered the cab. Mrs. Davenant regarded her with a smile, and evaded the frank, open eyes. Was it possible that the girl was ignorant of her marvelous beauty? "People in London always stare, my dear Una," she replied, "and they see that you are strange." "It is my dress," said Una, who had been looking out of the window at some of the fashionably-attired ladies. "It is different to theirs. See--look at that lady! Why does she wear so long a dress? she has to hold it up with one hand." "It is your dress, no doubt, my dear," she said. "We must alter it when we get home." The cab rolled into the street, and Una was rendered speechless. But for her resolve she would have shrunk back into the farthest corner of the cab. The number of people, the noise, alarmed her, and yet she felt fascinated. Were all the people mad that they hurried on so with such grave and pre-occupied faces. She had never seen her father hurry unless he had cut down a tree that had been struck by lightning, and which might injure others in its fall unless cut down with greatest care. Presently they passed into one of the leading thoroughfares, already lit up, its shops gleaming brightly with the gas-light, its ceaseless line of cabs, and omnibuses, and carriages. At last, when her eyes were weary with looking, she murmured: "This--this--is the world then at last." "Yes," said Mrs. Davenant, with a sigh. "This is the world, Una!" "And are those palaces!" asked Una, as they passed through the West End streets and squares. "No," said Mrs. Davenant; "they are only houses, in which rich people dwell, as you would call it." "And the trees! Are there no trees?" asked Una, with, for the first time, a sigh.