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