ibility of inducing a consecutive
and lucid train of thought.

Constantly there recurred to me the words of a popular yet melancholy
ballad I had once heard reproduced on a talking machine which dealt with
the tragic and untimely fate of a noble youth who, through
misapprehension and no discernible fault of his own, perished at the
hands of a drum-head court-martial in time of hostilities, the refrain
being: "The pardon came too late!"

Nevermore should I see my peaceful study at Fernbridge Seminary for
Young Ladies, with its cozy armchair, its comforting stool, or rest, for
the slippered feet, its neatly arranged tea table! Nevermore should I
spend the tranquil evening hours with Wordsworth and with Tennyson!
Nevermore should my eyes rest on my portfolio of pressed autumn leaves,
my carefully preserved wild flowers, my complete collection of the flora
of Western New Jersey!

In such despairing contemplations very many hours passed--or at least,
so I believed at the time. Eventually footsteps sounded without in the
paved corridor; the lock of my cell turned; the hinges grated; metal
clanged. Had another day dawned? Had the executioners come to lead me
forth? Nay; not so! The sickly light that streamed into my dungeon cell
was not the beaming of another sunrise but the suffused radiance of the
present afternoon; in fact, the hour was approximately one o'clock P.
M., as I learned later.

Enframed in the door opening stood the form of my gaoler, and beside him
was one of the cousins of my charge, Miss Canbee. It was the tall
brunette cousin--not the slight blonde one. I was saved! I was saved!

He--the cousin in question--had been one of the officers in charge of
the train which bore my charges away that morning. Meeting him on board
soon after discovering that I was not included among the passengers,
Miss Canbee begged him to hasten back to Abbevilliers to make search for
me. He had consented; he had returned posthaste. He knew me for what I
was, not for what, to the misguided perceptions of these excited
citizens, I seemed, in sooth, to be.

And in this same connection I wish to add that I have ever refused to
credit the malicious rumours originating among some of Miss Canbee's
seminary mates, and coming to my ears after my safe arrival at
Fernbridge, to the effect that this young gentleman was not Miss
Canbee's cousin and nowise related to her; for, as I clearly pointed out
to Miss Waddleton on the occasion when