exposed on his breast. I did not look closely at it then, but it struck
me that the woman's head in the portrait was familiar, though the
artistic work was not recent, and the fashion of the hair was of years
before. When his eyes opened, and he felt his neck bare, he hurriedly
put up his hand and drew the collar close, and at the same time sent a
startled and inquiring look at me. After a few moments I helped him to
his feet, and, thanking me more with a look than with words, he turned
towards the door again.

"Wait," I said, "until I give you some medicine, and then you shall take
my arm to your cabin." With a motion of the hand, signifying the
uselessness of remedies, he sat down again. As I handed him the phial, I
continued: "I know that it is none of my business, but you are suffering.
To help your body, your mind should be helped also. Can't you tell me
your trouble? Perhaps I should be able to serve you. I would if I
could."

It may be that I spoke with a little feeling and an apparent honesty;
for his eyes searched mine in a kind of earnest bewilderment, as if this
could not be true--as if, indeed, life had gone so hard with him that he
had forgotten the way of kindness. Then he stretched out his hand and
said brokenly: "I am grateful, believe me. I cannot tell you just now,
but I will soon, perhaps." His hand was upon the curtain of the door,
when my steward's voice was heard outside, calling my name. The man
himself entered immediately, and said that Mrs. Falchion sent her
compliments, and would I come at once to see her companion, Miss Caron,
who had injured herself.

The Intermediate Passenger turned towards me a strange look; his lips
opened as if about to speak, but he said nothing. At the instant there