JANET'S STORY.

ATE one afternoon in January, about fifteen years ago, said Janet, "I received a letter telling me of my sister Mary's dangerous illness. I was at Geneva and she at Turin. The letter was from her physician; it bade me come immediately; even then I might not find her alive.

"I had the two youngest children with me, my poor little brother Ernst, a child of seven, and Venitia, who was not more than five; they could not be left in Geneva, for I knew no one there to trust them with, therefore they had to go with me. I had only just time to hurry down to the Diligence Bureau to see what seats I could get. Of course, I found the coupé engaged; for when one is in a disagreeable position, the difficulties that spring up on all sides can be named Legion. There were only two seats to be had in the whole diligence, and they were in the interior.

"I could not help hesitating, used as I was to facing disagreeable things; for it is so unpleasant for a woman to travel alone in such a place. But what alternative had I? 6 Go,' said Courage, and trust to the children for protection.'

"The diligence was being arranged while I stood in the office talking about the seats with the courteous clerk,

who very good naturedly sympathized with my annoyance; in fifteen minutes the coach would start. My hesitation was ended by the arrival of the commissionaire whom I had employed to have my passport visèd by the Sardinian consul. I lost no more time, paid for the seats, lifted the children into the interior, and followed them; it was soon crowded with men. All nations seemed to be represented, and, until midnight, their conversation was very animated, a perfect Babel of

tongues.

"On entering the diligence I put Ernst in the corner, taking the seat next him, holding Venitia on my lap. My next neighbor was a German, and soon he showed a disposition to be friendly. At the Sardinian frontier he handed out my passport officiously, as if I belonged to him; offered repeatedly to relieve me of my child, and evidently desired to make himself agreeable, but, in such a manner as to cause all the hedgehog in my nature to put out its quills; besides, at that time I had so much trouble that there was, as is apt to be with energetic women under such influences, more harshness about me than anything else, it was just at the darkest hour before day' in my life.

"I was no longer in my first youth, and it would have been quite a figure of speech to have called me pretty; nevertheless I found I was more attractive to my German neighbor than was pleasant. He sat very near, saying once in a while, with vulgar familiarity, in German, 'Nahe zusammen sitzen macht gute Gesellschaft.'*

"Such a night as I passed! But the interior being crowded was some little protection. Pressing Venitia close to my breast, whilst Ernst slept soundly, leaning

"Close sitting makes good company."

against me, I turned a deaf ear to the impertinent remarks of the German. At last he also slept, and had the insolence to rest his head on my shoulder. I had anticipated some such proceeding from his manner, and accordingly had put a few pins there, points outward; he quickly raised his head, muttering angrily, Vermaledeites Weib.'*

6

"I was too alarmed to laugh, I assure you; moreover my heart was too full of apprehension for dear Mary; she might at that moment be dead! Memories of our youth swept up before me. Hours of joy and hours of sorrow we had had together; for we were the eldest of that large family, and very near of an age. Then she was my only counsellor and friend in the bringing up of the whole little flock; and though her health had been failing for some time, and she was almost a penniless widow with two little girls of her own, adding to, as she would mournfully say, instead of relieving the family burden; still she was of great value to me in many, many ways—most of all to a woman in trouble, she was one, near my own age, who could love and be loved. The other children were my charges and responsibilities: she was my only earthly luxury and consolation.

"Be merciful, O God!" I inwardly groaned, resting my burning, dry, aching eyes on Venitia's soft curls; for she, like my little brother, was sleeping soundly that blessed child - sleep 'that the thunder cannot break.' Looking at them I envied their unconsciousness of danger, their freedom from apprehensions and care, their sweet trust and faith in me as the living present providence of a mother, which is 'the heaven that hangs around' a child.

*"Confound the woman!"

'Mary and I had once been young and tolerably happy; more cared for in the way of luxury than they, but

not more loved. Now what were we? Solitary wrecks on life's sandy shore. If God's angel of death had come then, and shielded us all three with his dark wing, very sweet would have been the sleep to me! But still I ejaculated 'Be merciful, O God!' and the prayer for Mary's life went on.

"Towards morning the diligence rumbled into Chambèry. The first thing that struck my eyes when I looked from the window in the dim. morning light was that large monumental fountain you were so struck with to-day, ornamented with huge elephants standing in the middle of the street. Some day we must go over together the history of General de Boigne, his eventful life in India, his romantic but unhappy marriage with Madame Récamier's friend, and his return to his native town far up in the Sardinian Alps, where he sought consolation for his disappointed domestic hopes in charities. After his death his grateful townsmen raised this curious and costly fountain to his memory, and gave his name to the street in the centre of which the fountain stands.

"We drove through Rue de Boigne to the bureau. When the diligence stopped I roused the sleeping children, pushing aside hastily my offensive German neighbor, who, notwithstanding his experience of pin-points, was ready with disgusting freedom to assist me. Two or

three of the men talked with him of me, as I handed out the children to the guard. I took occasion to address the children in English, which we seldom used; for French, as the language of the country we lived in, was easier; but I did so, because the best protection to a lone woman on the European continent is our good, brave

Anglo-Saxon tongue; the woman who speaks it as if born to it is supposed to know how to do, to be, and to suffer, and most especially not to suffer any impertiTheir conversation was in German.

nence.

666 'Engländerin,' said one.

"Nein,' replied my meddling neighbor, nein, sie sprecht nicht wie eine Engländerin.'*

"Another suggested 'Russian,' for cultivated Russians speak, as Berlioz drolly says, 'all known and unknown tongues' with the greatest facility, almost without accent; they speak English too, in the monotone manner of Americans, quite free from British emphasis.

"Taking the children by the hand I went into the diligence office to secure the coupé if possible for the rest of the journey, but to my dismay found it engaged all the way through to Turin. The morning sun shot a little bright ray through the office window and seemed to give me fresh courage. One rarely feels timid in broad daylight. After inquiring the time of starting, finding I had seven or eight hours for rest, I went to the hotel.

"A pleasant chambermaid gave me a nice room and brought us a good breakfast. I undressed the children, bathed them, and put them to bed, where they soon fell into a sound sleep. I did the same for myself, but it was in vain that I tried to sleep. My uneasiness about Mary tortured me; the painful tension of my nerves during the night caused them to throb fiercely. I crept quietly out of bed and dressed myself. Ernst opened his full brown eyes on me, as I stooped down by the bedside to get my walking boots.

"Dear child,' I said, as the affectionate little fellow

* "An Englishwoman."-"No, she does not speak like an English

woman."