The other sat on the opposite side from our party, with his face turned towards them. He was rather small and slight, with nothing very peculiar about him except his large dark eyes, and a certain abstracted expression. He held a book in his hand, but either he did not find it very interesting or he had exhausted its contents; for he was not reading, but looking now at his fellow-passengers, now out of the window, though the fast-falling snow allowed but little of the landscape to be seen. He looked round as the children entered, and glanced at them once or twice afterwards with an appearance of considerable interest.
Christmas at Cedar Hill.
The train started and whirled away at great speed.
Agatha's eyes were irresistibly attracted to this gentleman's face, and though she felt as if it were rude to stare thus at a stranger, she could not help looking at him again and again. At last, as he rose and walked to the farther end of the car, Agatha whispered to her brother:
"Herbert, did you ever see that gentleman before?"
"No," returned Herbert, after turning round to look at him. "Why do you ask?"
"There is something about him that seems so familiar to me," replied Agatha, after taking another long look. "I cannot say that I remember him, and yet it seems as if I must have known him before."
"You may have seen some one like him," said Herbert. "He is a fine-looking man, but I don't see anything remarkable about him, except that he has a college medal, like my father's."
He looked round again, and his eyes encountered those of the gentleman they were discussing, who was returning to his seat.