Miggles laughed again--it was a singularly eloquent laugh--and turned her black eyes and white teeth once more toward us.
"This afflicted person is--" hesitated the Judge.
"Jim," said Miggles.
"Your father ?" "No." "Brother ?" "No." "Husband ?" Miggles darted a quick, half-defiant glance at the two lady passengers who I had noticed did not participate in the general masculine admiration of Miggles, and said gravely, "No; it's Jim." There was an awkward pause.

The lady passengers moved closer to each other; the Washoe husband looked abstractedly at the fire; and the tall man apparently turned his eyes inward for self-support at this emergency.

But Miggles's laugh, which was very infectious, broke the silence.

"Come," she said briskly, "you must be hungry.

Who'll bear a hand to help me get tea ?" She had no lack of volunteers.