the first time.
But black Care sat by me, with her pale hand in mine: a voice of fear and
warning, whose words I could not catch, was always in my ear. We drove
through London, amid the glare of lamps, toward the West-end, and for a
little while the sense of novelty and curiosity overcame my despondency,
and I peeped eagerly from the window; while Madame, who was in high
good-humour, spite of the fatigues of our long railway flight, screeched
scraps of topographic information in my ear; for London was a picture-book
in which she was well read.

'That is Euston Square, my dear--Russell Square. Here is Oxford
Street--Haymarket. See, there is the Opera House--Hair Majesty's Theatre.
See all the carriages waiting;' and so on, till we reached at length a
little narrow street, which she told me was off Piccadilly, where we drew
up before a private house, as it seemed to me--a family hotel--and I was
glad to be at rest for the night.

Fatigued with the peculiar fatigue of railway travelling, dusty, a little
chilly, with eyes aching and wearied, I ascended the stairs silently, our
garrulous and bustling landlady leading the way, and telling her oft-told
story of the house, its noble owner in old time, and how those fine
drawing-rooms were taken every year during the Session by the Bishop of
Rochet-on-Copeley, and at last into our double-bedded room.

I would fain have been alone, but I was too tired and dejected to care very
much for anything.

At tea, Madame expanded in spirit, like a giant refreshed, and chattered
and sang; and at last, seeing that I was nodding, advised my going to bed,
while she ran across the street to see 'her dear old friend, Mademoiselle
St. Eloi, who was sure to be up, and would be offended if she failed to
make her ever so short a call.'

I cared little what she said, and was glad to be rid of her even for a
short time, and was soon fast asleep.

I saw her, I know not how much later, poking about the room, like a figure
in a dream, and taking off her things.

She had her breakfast in bed next morning, and I was, to my comfort, left
to take mine in solitary possession of our sitting-room; where I began to
wonder how little annoyance I had as yet suffered from her company, and
began to speculate upon the chances of my making the journey with tolerable
comfort.

Our hostess gave me five minutes of her valuable time. Her talk ran chiefly
upon nuns and convents, and her old acquaintance with Mada