He stood up, unlocked one of his travelling-bags, the interior of which
glittered like a miniature arsenal, and took out a lamp, which he lighted
in a rapid dexterous manner, though without the faintest appearance of
haste, and fixed with a brass apparatus of screws and bolts to the arm
of Clarissa's seat. Then he brought her a pile of magazines, which she
received in her lap, not a little embarrassed by this unexpected attention.
He had called her suddenly from strange vague dreams of the future, and it
was not easy to come altogether back to the trivial commonplace present.

She thanked him graciously for his politeness, but she had not smiled yet.

"Never mind," the traveller said to himself; "that will come in good time."

He had the easiest way of taking all things in life, this gentleman; and
having established Clarissa with her lamp and books, sank lazily back into
his corner, and gave himself up to a continued contemplation of the fair
young face, almost as calmly as if it had been some masterpiece of the
painter's art in a picture gallery.

The magazines were amusing to Miss Lovel. They beguiled her away from those
shapeless visions of days to come. She began to read, at first with very
little thought of the page before her, but, becoming interested by degrees,
read on until her companion grew tired of the silence.

He looked at his watch--the prettiest little toy in gold and enamel, with
elaborate monogram and coat of arms--a watch that looked like a woman's
gift. They had been nearly three hours on their journey.

"I do not mean to let you read any longer," he said, changing his seat to
one opposite Clarissa. "That lamp is very well for an hour or so, but after