They occupied a first-class compartment in the middle of the train. There had been a little matter about the tickets at starting. Isaac Thornycroft procured them, and when they were seated, Anna took out her purse to repay him, and found she had not enough money in it. A little more that she possessed was in her box. Accustomed to travel second-class, even third, the cost of the ticket was more than she had thought for. Eighteenpence short! "If you will please to take this, I will repay you the rest as soon as I can get to my box," she said, with painful embarrassment--an embarrassment that Isaac could not fail to notice and to wonder at. Reared as she had been, money wore to her an undue value; to want it in a time of need seemed little short of a crime. She turned the silver about in her hands, blushing painfully. Miss Thornycroft discerned somewhat of the case. "Never mind, Anna. I dare say you thought to travel second-class. You can repay my brother later." Isaac's quick brain took in the whole. This poor friendless girl, kept at the Miss Jupps' almost out of charity, had less money in a year for necessities than he would sometimes spend in an hour in frivolity. Anna held out the silver still, with the rose-coloured flush deepening on her delicate cheeks. "What is it, Miss Chester?" he suddenly said. "Why do you offer me your money?" "You took my ticket, did you not?" "Certainly," he answered, showing the three little pieces of card in his waistcoat. "But I held the money for yours beforehand. Put up your purse." "Did you," she answered, in great relief, but embarrassed still. "Did Mrs. Copp give it you?--or--Miss Jupp?--or--or the captain?" Isaac laughed. "You had better not inquire into secrets, Miss Chester. All I can tell you is, I had the money for your ticket in my pocket. Where is that important article--the wicker bottle? Captain Copp will expect it returned to him--empty." "It is empty now; Miss Jupp poured out the rum-and-water," she answered, laughing. "I have it all safe." She put up her purse as she spoke, inquiring no further as to the donor in her spirit of implicit obedience, but concluded it must have been Miss Jupp. And she never knew the truth until--until it was too late to repay Isaac. At the terminus, side by side with the captain and his streamers, stood Justice Thornycroft. Anna remembered him well; the tall, fine, genial-natured man whom she had seen three years before in the day's visit to Mrs. Chester. All thought of her had long ago passed from his memory, but he recognised the face--the pale, patient, gentle face, which, even then, had struck Mr. Thornycroft as being the sweetest he had ever looked upon. It so struck him now. "Where have I seen you?" he asked. And Anna told him.