She was a vivacious little body, laughing and chatting with the elderly gentleman, in whose charge she appeared to be, in a way that betrayed she stood in no fear of him, while his fond glances and the many attentions he bestowed upon her plainly betrayed that he was indeed very fond of her. Young Webster had been especially attracted toward this party from the hour of starting, and had been on the alert to make their acquaintance, although he had not mentioned the subject before; but the trio had kept pretty well by themselves and appeared quite contented with their own company, so, as yet, there had been no opportunity for him to approach them without making himself conspicuous in so doing. But in spite of his boast that he would make Miss Alexander’s acquaintance, he was destined to be outdone and thrown into the background by his more modest English friend. When the party was summoned to dinner that day there was the usual rush for the dining-car; human nature will not always be curbed when people are hungry; but Mr. Knight and his companions lingered to avoid the crowd. Mr. Webster also delayed, and held his friend back in the hope that something might occur to establish an acquaintance with the young lady whom he so much admired. And something did occur. In passing from one car to the other, Mr. Knight first assisted his sister across, then turned to his young charge, when a gust of wind whirled her pretty hat from her head, it being held in place only by a pin, and it would have been wafted beyond recovery but for Rupert, who was directly behind her, and who deftly caught it in its flight. He instantly returned it to its fair owner, saying, with a bow and his frank smile: “I am very glad that I was quick enough to save it.” “I am glad, too,” returned the little lady, with a merry laugh. “Thank you. It would be very awkward to have to go on my way bare-headed.” Rupert glanced at her as she restored the hat to its place with a look which plainly said that he thought it a very pretty head, even in that state. Mr. Knight politely acknowledged his obligations for the service; but his sister, who was looking over his shoulder, regarded the two young men askance, as if she was not quite sure that the occurrence had not been all a plot, to which old Boreas had craftily lent his aid. Then they all passed into the dining-room car, where there was one small table unoccupied, with space for four persons, with only one other vacancy at another, midway of the car. Mr. Knight turned to Rupert, saying, cordially: “Come and share our table—I see the others are nearly full—and let me introduce you to my sister and ward. What shall I call you, if you please?” Rupert drew forth a card, and handed it to the gentleman.