“What is that?”

“Why,” said Herbert, frankly, “I am obliged to be economical, and I was thinking of buying a second-class ticket.”

“Oh,” said the lady, promptly, “there need be no difficulty about that.  If you will take the trouble to look after my father, we will gladly pay for your ticket.”

“I am afraid my services will not be worth so much,” said Herbert, modestly.

“You must leave us to estimate them.  If you do what you have undertaken, we shall consider the expense well incurred.”

Herbert made no further objection.  He felt, indeed, that it would be quite a lift to him, in the present state of his finances, and besides would be a very easy way of earning the money.  He therefore signified his thanks and his acceptance of the offer.

“When did you say the train starts?” asked the lady.

“At twelve.”

“Nearly five hours.  That will be too long to wait.  I think, father, we will go home.”

“Yes, my dear, I think that will be best.”

“Are you obliged to go home before starting?” the lady inquired, addressing Herbert.

“No, madam, I have no home in Columbus.  I passed last night at a hotel.”

“Have you any particular plan for spending the next few hours?”

Herbert answered in the negative.

“Then will you not ride home with us?  You will then be ready to start with my father.”

“I shall be happy to do so.”

“I think that will be much the best plan.  Pompey, open the carriage door for the young gentleman.”

Our hero was about to say that he could just as well open the door for himself, but he reflected that it was best to adapt himself to the customs of those he was with.  He bowed, therefore, and waited till the coachman had opened the door for him, and stepped into the carriage.  The lady signed to him to take a seat beside her, and the door was closed.

“Home, Pompey,” said she, briefly.

The coachman ascended to his seat, and the spirited grays were soon whirling the party rapidly homeward.

It was a new position for our hero, and he felt it to be so.  His parents had never been rich, and latterly had been very poor.  Living in a small country village, he had never even seen so elegant a carriage as that in which he was now riding He sank back upon the luxuriously cushioned seat, and he could not help thinking how pleasant it would be if he could command so comfortable a conveyance whenever he wanted to ride out.  But another thought succeeded this.  If he were blind, like the gentleman whom he was to take charge of, it would be a very poor compensation to ride in a luxurious carriage.  After all, things were not so unequal as they seemed at first sight.

“Since you are to be my father’s traveling companion,” said the lady, “perhaps you will not object to telling us your name.”

“Certainly,” said our hero, “my name is Herbert Mason.”