between him and his paper, and the bittersweet of his tone sounded again in his ears--what depths of disappointment and mortification that old man must have fathomed! Well, worse endings might have come about than the union of Lord St. George's title and property in his (Ralph Wilton's) favor; and, if he ever inherited these good things, he would certainly look up his erring cousin's children. These meditations were varied by sundry glances at his companion, vague conjectures concerning her. How soft and gentle her mouth looked! Yet there was a good deal of power in the wide, smooth forehead and delicately but clearly marked dark-brown eyebrows. As Wilton looked he perceived her shiver, without waking, and make a sleepy effort to fold her shawl closer. The night was growing colder, and Wilton, observing a small portion of the window next his companion open, rose to shut it. In moving to accomplish this, he touched the slumberer's foot. She opened her eyes with a sleepy, startled look--great, dark, lustrous eyes, which seemed to banish the childlike expression of her face. "I beg your pardon," said Colonel Wilton; "but it is cold, and I thought you would like the window shut." "Oh, yes, thank you; it is very, very cold." She sat up and rubbed her hands together, tying the blue scarf closer round her head, and thrusting carelessly under it a heavy tress of very dark-brown hair, that had become loosened, with utter disregard of appearances, as if only desirous of rest. "I am so, so weary," she went on, "and I dream instead of sleeping." "That is probably because of your uneasy position," said Wilton. "If you will allow me to arrange the cushions for you, I think you may rest better--I am an old traveller." "You are very good," she returned, hesitatingly; "how do you mean?" "I will show you;" and he proceeded to make supports for one of the unoccupied cushions with a walking-stick and umbrella so as to form a couch, and then rolled up his plaid loosely for an _impromptu_ pillow. "Now," he said, with frank good-nature, "you can rest really; and, if you will wrap yourself in my cloak, I dare say you will soon forget you are in a railway-carriage." "Thank you very much," she replied. "How good of you to take so much trouble--and your plaid, too! You have left yourself nothing!" "Oh, I do not need anything! Take the cloak, and I wish you good-night." He checked an inclination to wrap it round her, lest she might think him too officious; and, smiling at the change in his own sentiments toward his fellow-traveller, withdrew to his original position. "At least you can smoke," said she, as she placed herself upon the couch he had improvised. "I really like the perfume of a cigar."