ot risen to a
better view. There it was, just peeping between the heavy curtains,
white and blue-veined, with tapering fingers and shell-like nails. How
he longed to touch it! How tempting the rounded curve of the small wrist.

A prolonged lunge threw him violently forward, when grasping the rod to
save himself, his lips went plump against the coveted object. It was
only momentary, but it thrilled him as with an electric shock. When he
recovered his equilibrium the fair sleeper had withdrawn entirely out of
sight, and her involuntary assailant addressed himself to the duty of
disrobing. Long he pondered upon the "touch of a vanished hand," and at
last fell into uneasy dreams wherein the world had come to an end, and
he found himself at the gates of heaven, with five soft white fingers
turning the key on the other side.

"Last call for breakfast," shouted the porter next morning, and the
confusion of voices mingled with the noisy folding of vacated berths.

Parting his curtains, Hervey Leslie peered out, possibly to catch a
morning view of the pretty hand.

"By Jove! better still!" was his smothered comment, as he hastily turned
away.

What he had seen was the perfection of a French boot, buttoned high, and
protruding modestly below the curtains. Then a soft voice called--"Porter,
I should like to get down."

The steps were adjusted, and as she gently fluttered down, the listener
thought--

"What a shame I didn't have a chance to exchange berths with her! To
think of her being perched up there!"

An hour later Leslie returned from his cigar to find the Pullman in
order, and the refreshed occupants enjoying the books and papers
scattered about. It was not possible to mistake the owner of the hand
and foot, whom a glance revealed in her corner, looking quietly upon the
hurrying villages and farms. A coquettish hat rested lightly upon a
fluffy mass of golden brown hair, a dainty tailored suit fitted closely
the rounded figure, and the face that looked out of the window was sweet
and bright even in repose. The coveted hand, in spotless kid, shielded
the earnest eyes from the glare of the morning sun, and all in all, the
picture was one to tempt any looker-on.

Just as Hervey Leslie was puzzling his brain for a pretext, however
flimsy, to introduce himself, a lady came from the dressing-room and sat
down beside the beautiful unknown--a lady still young and handsome, and
so closely resembling the girl as to leave no