lt like a very little girl
indeed.

"You are exceedingly good," I replied, "but it would be of no use. I am
so frightened of those men in blue coats and big mustaches. I should not
be able to say a word to any of them."

"German is sometimes not unlike English."

"It is like nothing to me, except a great mystery."

"_Billet_, is 'ticket,'" said he persuasively.

"Oh, is it?" said I, with a gleam of hope. "Perhaps I could remember
that. _Billet_," I repeated reflectively.

"Bil_let_," he amended; "not _Bil_lit."

"Bill-yet--Bill-_yet_," I repeated.

"And 'to Elberthal' may be said in one word, 'Elberthal.' '_Ein
Billet--Elberthal--erster Classe._'"

"_Ein Bill-yet_," I repeated, automatically, for my thoughts were
dwelling more upon the charming quandary in which I found myself than
upon his half-good-natured half-mocking instructions: "_Ein Bill-yet,
firste--erste_--it is of no use. I can't say it. But"--here a brilliant
idea struck me--"if you could write it out for me on a paper, and then I
could give it to the man: he would surely know what it meant."

"A very interesting idea, but a _viva voce_ interview is so much
better."

"I wonder how long it takes to walk to Elberthal!" I suggested darkly.

"Oh, a mere trifle of a walk. You might do it in four or five hours, I
dare say."

I bit my lips, trying not to cry.

"Perhaps we might make some other arrangement," he remarked. "I am going
to Elberthal too."

"You! Thank Heaven!" was my first remark. Then as a doubt came over me:
"Then why--why--"

Here I stuck fast, unable to ask why he had said so many tormenting
things to me, pretended to teach me German phrases, and so on. The words
would not come out. Meanwhile he, without apparently feeling it
necessary to explain himself upon these points, went on:

"Yes. I have been at a probe" (not having the faintest idea as to what a
probe might be, and not liking to ask, I held my peace and bowed
assentingly). He went on, "And I was delayed a little. I had intended to
go by the train you have lost, so if you are not afraid to trust
yourself to my care we can travel together."

"You--you are very kind."

"Then you are not afraid?"

"I--oh, no! I should like it very much. I mean I am sure it would be
very nice."

Feeling that my social powers were as yet in a very undeveloped
condition, I subsided into silence, as he went on:

"I hope your friends will not be very uneasy?"

"Oh, dear no!" I assured