IT

station: why I was there, or where I was going, I don't exactly remember, so much having happened since, and I, just at that time, having no special reason to go to one place more than to another.

The express train from Paris had just come in.

She was standing a little aside, just out of the crowd and bustle, looking on, scanning every face as it passed and repassed: mine among others, and, as I fancied, with more interest than others. Her face was very pale, and her eyes were anxious, but she looked calm and self-possessed; her manner had no bashfulness, no hardihood.

Was she waiting for her fellowpassenger to rejoin her?

People hurried to and fro, each one intent on his or her business. No one approached this little lady.

By-and-by I saw her speak to an elderly woman, who, for a few moments, stood near her, a matured specimen, apparently, of the genus 'unprotected. Of her I think she asked some question. From her she received, I fancied, a hurried, a not over-courteous answer. I saw a flush rise to her face as she turned away.

By this time the platform was almost clear. Such passengers as were by-and-by going on, had departed to refresh themselves; others had gone to their resting-places; the railway officials began to regard this solitary figure curiously. Raising my hat, speaking to her in French, with as formal a courtesy as I could command, I ventured to ask if she were waiting for anybody; wanting any information; if I could be in any way of any service to her. A shade as of perplexity or disappointment crossed her face when I thus addressed her.

She answered in better French than mine, while her eyes seemed to read mine with something more than curiosity-with interest.

'I was to have been met here. I see nobody who is looking for anybody. I am disappointed. I must wait here; some one will, perhaps, come yet. Thank you very much for your kindness, but I must wait.' Again lifting my hat, I left her; but only to pace the platform and think about her. Wait! what had she to wait for? Any one meaning to meet her would have been there when the train came in. Alone there, and, most likely, strange to the place, what could she do? Meanwhile, there she stood, waiting, composedly, patiently.

As the minutes passed by, I thought she looked paler and paler; at last, as I approached her nearer than in my other turns, she came a few steps towards me.

'Will you be so kind,' she began in English, then, correcting herself, she spoke French.

I smiled. 'I am English, as you are.'

'Oh, I am so glad!' she said quite childishly. Then she added, 'I can offer no excuse for troubling you, but will you tell me what to do? I am come direct from London. I am going to my brother, who is ill in Rome. Some one was to have met me at Marseilles, and I know nothing about the route beyond this. My brother is very ill. I must travel quickly, or-' here she paused, or rather her voice failed her.

'Were you to go by land?'

'Yes; my brother forbade me to travel by water. Sea-travelling half killed him, and he won't let me try it.'

But,' I said, quite angrily,' it is an impossible journey for you to undertake alone by this route, or, indeed, by any route. What were your friends thinking of?'

'I was to have been met here, you know. I quite depended upon that.'

'But you have no business here at all. If you want to go by land, and quickly, you ought to have