He met her eyes and read the curiosity in them, their unspoken criticism, and smiled. But he did not give her any information. He started to talk again on impersonal matters, while she looked away into the green tangle of the trees and wondered about him. On the way to the station he gave her a book, which he took from his pocket and handed to her with the remark that it would relieve the tedium of the train journey. She read the title, "David Harum," and flushed with pleasure as she thanked him. "I hope you will like it," he said. "I have found him a good companion." He discovered an empty compartment and settled her in it and stood by the door. She leaned from the window, with her arms on it, and looked down at him, earnestly, intently, with the light of unsaid things shining in her eyes. "I hate going," she said. "I know. Partings are beastly things." But he said nothing to lead her to hope that this parting was not final; no intimation of it being otherwise entered his thoughts. "To-morrow," he said, "I shall go alone to watch the sunrise." A little wistful smile curved her lips. "I shall think of you," she said. "I shall probably have _you_ in my thoughts," he replied, and smiled also. "We have spent some pleasant times together." She leaned further out and held out a hand to him as the train was about to start. He took it and pressed it warmly. "Thank you for your kindness to me," she said simply. "Thank _you_ for your bright companionship," he returned, and the regret he felt at parting crept into his voice. He released her hand and stood back while the train moved slowly out of the station. The girl, leaning from the open window, saw the tall stooping figure on the platform, with face turned towards her, until she drew back suddenly and sat down in the corner seat, a feeling of great loneliness in her heart, and in her eyes the brightness of unshed tears. She took up the book he had given her, and opened it, and read on the fly-leaf his name, written in small, unsteady characters,--Paul Hallam. She sat with the book open in her lap, gazing at his name. Book 2--CHAPTER TWELVE. Esme Lester lived with a married sister at Port Elizabeth in a little house in Havelock Street. Her brother-in-law was junior partner in a store which was not a particularly flourishing concern, and the family finances were generally at low ebb. There were two children, a boy and a girl, named respectively John and Mary. When the family were all at home the little house seemed full to overflowing.