a touching picture of the extremities to which
I might, possibly be reduced by his conduct;
"I may even have to eat my boots," I was
saying, when a loud laugh close behind me,
which the wren at the top of St. Paul's might
have heard, caused me nearly to tumble off
my perch. It was the captain, into whose
care Cousin Jack had consigned me; a great
rubicund man, and the master of the thief.
The paper, rolled up into a bâton, with which
I was mildly enforcing my argument on the
dog's mind, told the story of my loss.

"Never mind, little one, you shall have
your breakfast with me;" he said kindly.

Other passengers began to arrive with luggage,
cloaks, cross voices, and confusion, and
there was so much to watch, that was novel and
amusing that I forgot how dreary I ought to
feel. Amongst others came two girls, who made
it known to me that they were returning to the
same school as myself, having been spending
their Christmas at home, in Norfolk. They
were sunk in the depths of grief; which
continued for some time, harrowing my young
mind with doleful predictions of what we
should all have to go through when we
arrived at Madame Freschon's. We
exchanged a few confidences and were mutually
pleased, when the vessel at last began to
move; upon which my future companions
hastily disappeared into the cabin.

It was a doleful voyage; fog above and fog
below, and fog all round; nothing to be seen
anywhere but cold, grey, steamy fog! More
than once the captain exhorted me to go
below; but, finding me obstinate and
immovable, he at last let me alone; but the
stewardess—of whose amenity of disposition
the less said the better—forcibly took me off by
one arm, and made me feel myself a prisoner
of the state-cabin. Having got me there, she
made me drink coffee and eat biscuits; but
was invincible on the subject of oranges, for
which I petitioned. The Misses Jones, my
schoolfellows that were to be, had hidden
themselves in berths at the top, where they
lay groaning miserably; and the only occupants
of the cabin, besides myself, were a tall,
strong woman, who had not yet loosened hold
of her umbrella, and a little boy of about
eight years old, whose vivacity she seemed
bent on crushing in the bud. I know not
how the rest of the voyage was got over,
but I remember feeling myself once more on
land on very unsteady limbs, and in a
misanthropic frame of mind. An old gentleman
and a younger one took undisputed possession
of Miss Jones, her sister, and myself, and
handed us over to the Custom House authorities,
in such a state of mental and physical
prostration that my tongue lifted up no
remonstrance when my basket was opened by
an individual with moustachios, and myself
undressed, by a little woman in black, with
froggy hands. The world was a cheat and
happiness a fraud, and I had found it out.
O, that I had been born a boy!

We were next transferred to an inn,
where we were shut up for two hours in a
room with dark blue walls and a picture of
Napoleon scaling the Alps. Those two
hours were very long, but they came to an
end at last. The old gentleman, who was
Madame Freschon's father, and the young
one, who was Monsieur Emile, her brother,
reappeared in a yellow voiture, not unlike a
tilted cart. Into this vehicle we were
bestowed; the Joneses sitting in the seat
behind and I in front, where I could look out.
We started at a foot's pace, leaving the
two gentlemen to follow with the baggage,
I suppose. The driver was very silent until
we got out of Calais, but then he began to
whistle, and occasionally broke into a stave,
each verse of which ended with "La liberté
ou la mort!" As night was falling, and a
thick fog still reigned, my vision of this new
country was limited. I only made out that
the road we travelled ran by the side of the
canal, and that, on the other side, it was
bordered by stunted willows.

We had been creeping on for upwards of
an hour and a half at the very slowest
of snail's gallops; when, at a bend in the
road, I perceived that we were approaching
a town. The willows gave place to
cottages from the low, uncurtained windows
of which fire-light streamed across the
road. The elder Miss Jones immediately gave
signs of becoming hysterical; and, when we
entered a narrow street dimly illuminated
by little oil-lamps, her sobs, mingled with
vituperative expressions against the place, the
people and things in general, became really
quite alarming. I endeavoured to insinuate
a bit of comfort by saying, "Never mind;"
and then asking the younger sister what was
the matter? "O, she is always so; she can't
help it;" was the reply. When I was speculating
on the unhappy state of a girl wailing
incessantly—like an Irish widow at a wake—
the voiture entered the market-place, where
chaffering was going on in a noisy and
confusing way. Thence we passed into another
narrow street, turned a sharp angle, and
stopped before some great wooden gates set
in a high wall. The driver descended and
opened those ominous portals; my heart beat
like a hammer; Miss Jones moderated her
lament, and the voiture passed into a large
court-yard where the ghostly shadows of
some great trees were dimly discernible
waving against a back-ground of masonry.

"Here is the old den, Minnie; be quiet,
do!" said the younger Miss Jones, in an
emphatic whisper.

The house-door was opened; and, dazed by
the sudden burst of light from within, for a
minute or two I could see nothing but a
crowd of girls clustered like bees on the
staircase. I was lifted from the voiture and set
on my feet in the hall by a stout female
servant; for, though lively, I was stiff with cold.
The Joneses followed, and we were ushered