How very English he was! Had he been American, she might have appealed to his sense of the jocular and absurd. No hope with this ultra-British solemnity. “Well,” she began desperately, “there’ are some people in this car that I don’t want to see.” “In the—er—compartment?” “In both compartments. And they mustn’t see me.” “Quite so.” “But they’ve already seen me.” “Awkward, that,” he murmured. “Not so awkward as if they’d seen me alone. They’ve seen us. Together.” “But—er—it’s no end nice of you, you know, and—and all that sort of thing. But why together?” “That’s what I’m trying to explain.” She looked at him doubtfully. “I’m finding it rather hard.” “Perhaps you’re not supposed to be traveling alone,” he suggested. “Now, that’s quite clever of you!” Darcy beamed gratitude upon him. “I’m not. But I started alone and—and—” “You were to meet a—a companion who failed you?” He was really striving to be helpful, but Darcy felt herself getting in deeper and deeper. “No: that isn’t it, at all.” “Then—er—I may be beastly stupid, but—er—really—” Blank bewilderment was expressed in every feature of his face including the monocle. “Not at all,” returned the girl politely. “No wonder you find it puzzling. It’s quite involved.” Then she took the plunge. “I’m eloping.” “Eloping?” Her _vis-à-vis_ dropped his monocle, replaced it, and stared at Darcy. “Eloping! Impossible!” “Why impossible? Don’t you elope in England?” “Er—personally, seldom. And never alone.” Was there a twinkle behind the monocle? Were the jokesmiths wrong about the English lack of humor? Or had she, happily, encountered a phenomenon? Darcy embraced the hope and changed her strategy in the midst of the assault. “Here’s your chance,” she said with calm effrontery. “You see, my—the other person in my elopement failed to live up to his opportunity.” Her companion was understood to reflect adversely upon the sanity of the recreant. “So,” pursued the girl, her color flushing and paling, but her eyes unflinchingly steady, “if you would—oh, please don’t think me dreadful!—if you could just pretend to be the man! It’s only for a little while,” she pleaded. “Just until we can get away from those people. Will you?” “I will,” he said solemnly. “I wish you wouldn’t say that as if—as if we were in church,” protested the startled Darcy, plaintively. “Ah, yes; by the way, have we been?” “Have we been what?” “To church.” “This isn’t Sunday.” “No; but you say that we are eloping.” “Just for the present.” “Quite so. But is this—er—before or after?” “Before or—Oh!!” Comprehension flooded the girl’s mind and colored her cheeks simultaneously. “After,” she said, in a small, gaspy voice. “We—we’re married.” “Buck up!” exhorted her companion. “Don’t take it so hard. It will soon be over. I merely wished to know, in case any question arose. When?” “Ye—ye—yesterday. I mean, this morning.”