have gone through every changeful mood of hope
and fear that accompanies these actions, sipping my glass of Beaune
between whiles.

When I found myself in my bedroom I had no inclination for sleep; I
was in a mood of enjoyment too elevated for mere repose. It was so
delightful to be no longer at sea, to feel rescued from the miseries
of the rocking ship and the reeking cabin, that I would not lose the
rapture of forgetful-ness. I was in the mood for great things, too, if I
only knew what they were to be. "Ah!" thought I, suddenly, "I will write
to _her_. She shall know that she is not the friendless and forsaken
creature that she deems herself; she shall hear that, though separated
from home, friends, and country, there is one near to watch over and
protect her, and that Potts devotes himself to her service." I opened my
desk, and in all the impatience of my ardor began:--

"'Dear Madam,'--Quere: Ought I to say 'dear'? 'We are not acquainted, and
can I presume upon the formula that implies acquaintanceship? No. I
must omit 'dear;' and then 'madam' looks fearfully stern and rigid,
particularly when addressed to a young unmarried lady; she is certainly
not 'madam' yet, surely. I can't begin 'miss,' What a language is
ours? How cruelly fatal to all the tenderer emotions is a dialect so
matter-of-fact and formal!

"If I could only start with 'Gentilissima Signora,' how I could get on!
What an impulse would the words lend me! What 'way on me' would they
impart for what was to follow! In our cast-metal tongue there is nothing
for it but the third person: 'The undersigned has the honor,' &c., &c.
This is chilling--it is positively repulsive. Let me see, will this
do?--

"'The gentleman who was fortunate enough to render you some trivial
service at the Milford station two days ago, having accidentally learned
that you are here and unprovided with a protector, in all humility
offers himself to afford you every aid and counsel in his power. No
stranger to the touching interest of your life, deeply sensible of the
delicacy that should surround your steps, if you deign to accept his
devoted services, he will endeavor to prove himself, by every sentiment
of respect, your most faithful, most humble, and most grateful servant

"'P. S. His name is Potts.'

"Yes, all will do but the confounded postscript. What a terrible
bathos,--'His name is Potts'! What if I say, 'One word of reply is
requested, addressed to Algernon Sydney Po