THE CALIFORNIAN (with more interest). Campbell? Campbell? Yes, I know a man of that name. But I disremember his first name. Little low fellow--pretty chunky? MRS. ROBERTS. I don't know. Do you mean short and stout? THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma'am. MRS. ROBERTS. I'm sure I can't tell. It's a great many years since he went out there, and I've never seen him in all that time. I thought if you _did_ happen to know him--He's a lawyer. THE CALIFORNIAN. It's quite likely I know him; and in the morning, ma'am-- MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, excuse me. I'm very sorry to have kept you so long awake with my silly questions. THE MAN IN THE UPPER BERTH. Don't apologize, madam. I'm not a Californian myself, but I'm an orphan, and away from home, and I thank you, on behalf of all our fellow-passengers, for the mental refreshment that your conversation has afforded us. _I_ could lie here and listen to it all night; but there are invalids in some of these berths, and perhaps on their account it will be as well to defer everything till the morning, as our friend suggests. Allow me to wish you pleasant dreams, madam. [THE CALIFORNIAN, while MRS. ROBERTS shrinks back under the curtain of her berth in dismay, and stammers some inaudible excuse, slowly emerges full length from his berth.] THE CALIFORNIAN. Don't you mind me, ma'am; I've got everything but my boots and coat on. Now, then [standing beside the berth, and looking in upon the man in the upper tier], you, do you know that this is a lady you're talking to? THE UPPER BERTH. By your voice and your shaggy personal appearance I shouldn't have taken you for a lady--no, sir. But the light is very imperfect; you may be a bearded lady. THE CALIFORNIAN. You never mind about my looks. The question is, Do you want your head rapped up against the side of this car? THE UPPER BERTH. With all the frankness of your own Pacific slope, no. MRS. ROBERTS (hastily reappearing). Oh, no, no, don't hurt him. He's not to blame. I was wrong to keep on talking. Oh, please don't hurt him! THE CALIFORNIAN (to THE UPPER BERTH). You hear? Well, now, don't you speak another word to that lady tonight. Just go on, ma'am, and free your mind on any little matter you like. I don't want any sleep. How long has your brother been in California? MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, don't let's talk about it now; I don't want to talk about it. I thought--I thought--Good-night. Oh, dear! I didn't suppose I was making so much trouble. I didn't mean to disturb anybody. I-- [MRS. ROBERTS gives way to the excess of her confusion and mortification in a little sob, and then hides her grief behind the curtains of her berth. THE CALIFORNIAN slowly emerges again from his couch, and stands beside it, looking in upon the man in the berth above.]