When he got back to his compartment he rang vigorously for the porter.  A coin was carelessly displayed in his fingers.  “Do you suppose you could find out who has the next compartment, porter?”

“I don’t know their name, sub, but they’s goin’ to New York jis as fas’ as they can git thuh.  I ain’ ax um no questions, ’cause thuh’s somethin’ ‘bout um makes me feel’s if I ain’ got no right to look at um even.”

The porter thought a moment.

“I don’ believe it’ll do yuh any good, suh, to try to shine up to tha’ young lady.  She ain’ the sawt, I can tell yuh that.  I done see too many guhls in ma time—­”

“What are you talking about?  I’m not trying to shine up to her.  I only want to know who she is—­just out of curiosity.”  Grenfall’s face was a trifle red.

“Beg pahdon, suh; but I kind o’ thought you was like orh’ gent’men when they see a han’some woman.  Allus wants to fin’ out somethin’ ’bout huh, suh, yuh know.  ‘Scuse me foh misjedgin’ yuh, suh.  Th’ lady in question is a foh’ner—­she lives across th’ ocean, ‘s fuh as I can fin’ out.  They’s in a hurry to git home foh some reason, ‘cause they ain’ goin’ to stop this side o’ New York, ’cept to change cahs.”

“Where do they change cars?”

“St. Louis—­goin’ by way of Cincinnati an’ Washin’ton.”

Grenfall’s ticket carried him by way of Chicago.  He caught himself wondering if he could exchange his ticket in St. Louis.

“Traveling with her father and mother, I suppose?”

“No, suh; they’s huh uncle and aunt.  I heah huh call ’em uncle an’ aunt.  Th’ ole gent’man is Uncle Caspar.  I don’ know what they talk ‘bout.  It’s mostly some foh’en language.  Th’ young lady allus speaks Amehican to me, but th’ old folks cain’t talk it ver’ well.  They all been to Frisco, an’ the hired he’p they’s got with ’em say they been to Mexico, too.  Th’ young lady’s got good Amehican dollahs, don’ care wha’ she’s been.  She allus smiles when she ask me to do anythin’, an’ I wouldn’ care if she nevah tipped me, ’s long as she smiles thataway.”

“Servants with them, you say?”

“Yas, suh; man an’ woman, nex’ section t’other side the ole folks.  Cain’t say mor’n fifteen words in Amehican.  Th’ woman is huh maid, an’ the man he’s th’ genial hustler fer th’ hull pahty.”

“And you don’t know her name?”

“No, sun, an’ I cain’t ver’ well fin’ out.”

“In what part of Europe does she live?”

“Australia, I think, suh.”

“You mean Austria.”

“Do I?  ‘Scuse ma ig’nance.  I was jis’ guessin’ at it anyhow; one place’s as good as ’nother ovah thuh, I reckon.”

“Have you one of those dollars she gave you?”

“Yes, sub.  Heh’s a coin that ain’ Amehican, but she says it’s wuth seventy cents in our money.  It’s a foh’en piece.  She tell me to keep it till I went ovah to huh country; then I could have a high time with it—­that’s what she says—­’a high time’—­an’ smiled kind o” knowin’ like.”