than she looked. She was becomingconscious that till now she had not sufficiently taken into accountEvelyn's peculiar unfitness for acting a part of any kind; all she haddirected her attention to having been the mere obtaining of her sister'sconsent to her scheme.
"Yet, after all," she thought to herself, as she stepped into thesecond-class compartment next door, "after all, all she will have to dowill be very easy; there will be no acting involved. We shall hardlyever be seen together, and if her manner is constrained and peculiar, itwill only be thought to be her way with servants. It isn't as if wewere going among people who had ever seen her before."
With these reflections she did her best to quell her misgivings, andfeeling that it would be better not to let her mind dwell too long onher own concerns, she looked about her for a little diversion.
There were two or three other occupants of the compartment, and herglance fell almost immediately on one of them who at once riveted herattention. This was a long-nosed, melancholy-eyed dachshund, whomPhilippa's judgment, experienced in matters pertaining to his family,straightway mentally labelled as a "perfect beauty." In other words, asconsistently and entirely ugly as the strictest connoisseur coulddemand.
Philippa loved dogs, and in general her amiable feelings towards themwere reciprocated. She had a very tender association with dachshunds,the tragic death of one such pet having been literally the sorest griefof her childhood, and as she gazed on her four-footed fellow-traveller,whose soft eyes gazed back at her in return from the seat exactlyopposite hers, where he was comfortably established in a corner, it wasperhaps well for her that the blue-tinted spectacles hid the tears whichinvoluntarily dimmed their surface.
_Never_ since that terrible day--now, what the young girl would havecalled "so many, many years ago," when the broken-hearted child hadsobbed itself to sleep for the loss of her darling--never had she seenanother dog so exactly like "Valentine."
"Oh, you dear, dear dog," she said, under her breath, "I feel as if youmust know me."
The words were quite inaudible, but some doggie instinct must havecarried their meaning to the brain of poor Valentine's double, for withsomething between a smile and a sigh--literally speaking, a yawn ofregret at the interruption of his comfortable repose--the dachshund, atthe cost of considerable self-denial, slowly lifted himself, and withsomething between a spring and a stretch, landed his lengthy person onPhilippa's knee. Thence he lifted his reddy-brown eyes, gleaming withmingled pathos and humour, to her face for approval.
"You dear little man, good doggie," exclaimed Miss Raynsworth, toodelighted to remember her role, "how sweet of you to come to me! Howdid you find out I wanted you?"
Suddenly a voice interrupted her. Till this moment, absorbed by thedog, his owner had not attracted her attention. She was vaguelyconscious of two elderly women at the other end of the carriage, and aman of some kind on the same side as the dachs, but that was all.
Now, glancing up quickly at the preliminary "I beg your pardon," shebecame aware of a pair of eyes, reddy-brown eyes, which might have beenthe dog's own transferred to a human face, looking at her with anexpression in which, however, there was nothing pathetic, only kindlyand good-humoured surprise.
"I beg your pardon," their owner repeated; "I never saw Solomon takesuch liberties before.--Down, Solomon; down, sir."
But Solomon demurred.
"She likes having me," he said, as plainly as dog language can speak,with a deprecatory wag of his tail, and Philippa passed her arm roundhim.
"I love him," she said, eagerly; "he is so like--one I had," her voicedropping a little. "Do let him stay with me. `Solomon'--what a nicename!"
Solomon wagged his tail more energetically. For him the situation wasquite agreeably clear; not so for his master. As Philippa glanced againat the young man the expression of surprise, almost of perplexity, onhis face came home to her, bringing with it the remembrance of herassumed personality. The colour rushed into her face as she realisedhow imperfect was her preparation for carrying out her part.
"The very first time I have had to speak to any one," she thought toherself, "I have completely forgotten it all! Dear me, how shall I everget on? It was all your fault, Solomon," giving him an affectionatelittle hug.
Solomon's master, meanwhile, was increasingly perplexed. Thediscrepancy between the young girl's easy manner and well-bred tone ofvoice, and the rigorous simplicity of her dress, which even hismasculine eyes perceived to be not that of a lady, struck him more andmore.
"What was there to make her get so red about?" he said to himself, andhe was turning away, out of pity for her embarrassment, when she againaddressed him.
"I am so fond of dogs, sir," she said, slowly. "I am quite accustomedto taking care of them."
"Certainly, if you like to be troubled with him," the young man replied,somewhat inconsequently. He spoke with perfect civility, yet there wasan impalpable change in his tone at once perceptible to Philippa's quickears--her last sentences had succeeded in their object. Yet theconsciousness of this was accompanied to her by an altogetherunreasonable touch of annoyance.
"He is quite satisfied already that I am a servant," she reflected."Really, if beauty is but skin deep, social distinctions, or the outwardsigns of them, are far less so," and again the blood mounted to hercheeks, this time, however, without attracting the notice of herfellow-traveller, who had now opened a magazine and was absorbed in itscontents.
CHAPTER FIVE.
"SOLOMON."
Philippa sat quietly in her corner, one arm thrown comfortably roundSolomon's plump little person, perfectly to that philosopher's content.Among the various preparations for her journey, it had not occurred tothe young girl to provide herself with any literature. Her eyes wereconsequently at leisure to occupy themselves with anything of interestthat might come in their way. But the country through which the trainwas just then passing was flat and monotonous; she soon grew tired ofstaring out of the window, and she dared not amuse herself with Solomonfor fear of attracting his master's attention.
Furthermore, the dachs, by this time was contentedly asleep.
Philippa's eyes strayed to the end of the carriage. One of the elderlyladies had already followed Solomon's example; her sister, for sistersthey unmistakably were, returned Philippa's slight glance in herdirection with a somewhat severe look of doubtful approval.
"What a forward girl!" she had been saying to herself, and Philippaalmost felt the words.
She only smiled to herself, however.
"I am really going through excellent training already," she thought, andagain she turned to the window.
A moment or two later, however, some instinct, possibly merely asensation of suppressed restlessness, led her to glance at Solomon'smaster, and this time she was able to do so unobserved, for maiden-ladynumber two had also closed her eyes in peaceful repose.
"How ugly he is!" was Miss Raynsworth's first idea, and the adjectivewas in some sense justified, for the charm of the young man's facedoubtless lay in his pleasant eyes, at present lowered so as he read.But there is ugliness and ugliness, and in the face under MissRaynsworth's scrutiny, in spite of its somewhat rugged features, therewas nothing in the very slightest degree repellent or hard. The mouthwas excellent, the rest of the features in no way remarkable, and yetnot commonplace or in any sense weak, and a good mouth means a greatdeal. On the whole the face was interesting, and the longer Philippaobserved him the more inclined she felt to modify her first somewhatwholesale opinion.
"I wonder how old he is," she said to herself; "he might be almost anyage between twenty-four and thirty-four."
Then as he turned a leaf of his magazine, she hastily glanced away forfear of detection. There was another motive, besides that of an everready interest in her fellow-creatures, strongly developed in the girl;the face before her reminded her of some other that she had seen lately,though when or where she could not for some time recall. She glanced upfurtively, and at last it flashed upon her, so mu
ch to her satisfaction,that she could scarcely suppress an exclamation of triumph.
"I know whom he is like, and yet they are as different as possible; itis that Mr Gresham whom I saw at Dorriford, that very silent man. Andyet he was _so_ handsome, and this man is just the opposite. Whatcurious things likenesses are!"
At this point in her reflections she must have got a little drowsy, forwhich Solomon's gentle, monotonous breathing close to her ear maypossibly to some extent have been accountable. Whether this was thecase or not, she knew nothing more till she was roused by the slackeningof the train, quickly followed by preparations on the part of the twoelderly ladies for leaving the carriage, which they did with theirvarious rugs and