l things some knowledge of
her. I hope I may have the honor--" A blast from the engine broke upon
his speech at that juncture: we were at Baden.

Hastily thanking him--for abroad one falls into the continental habit of
thanking people "mille fois" for what they do not do, as for what they
do do--and saying "Bon jour," I hurried off to the Bergstrasse. The next
morning I refunded my borrowed guldens to the master of the cafe by post
(as I had not placed my entire bank in my purse), and feeling
conscience-smitten at having, in my direst extremity, been befriended by
one of those "dreadful Austrians" whom I had so bitterly berated, I
hinted my amazement, along with my thanks, at having been the recipient
of so graceful and needed a courtesy from a Viennese. He acknowledged
the receipt of the money, adding, "I hope you do not take me for a
Viennese: I am a Bavarian, and have lived twelve years in England."

Among the occupants of the house and dwellers in the garden where I
lodged and lived was a young Austrian woman, two years married, with
whom I formed a pleasant acquaintance, and whose chatty ways rapidly
revived my knowledge of the German, in which language only she could
express herself. I shall not soon forget her, for she told me that she
married to please the "Eltern"--that she "had never loved," and was so
naive in her mode of reasoning as to prove a source of infinite
surprise. She had no conception of any destiny for a girl but that of
marriage, and never tired of asking about "American girls," whom I
described as oftentimes living and dying unmarried.

"And do not the parents force them to marry? And what do they do if not
marry? And when they get old, what becomes of them? And they are
_doctors_ even? Did you ever see a woman-doctor?" etc., etc., and
hundreds of similar questions.

One evening, two or three days after the "robbery," we went to sit in
the park and listen to the music. On the end of a bench where we sat
down was a poorly-clad, miserable-looking woman, who occupied herself in
dozing and waking. I had no money in my pocket, but I could not rid
myself of the idea that the poor wretch was dying of hunger, and her
sharp contrast to the hundreds of elegantly-dressed people all about her
and constantly moving to and fro only gave more force to her isolation
and misery. At length, perhaps more to relieve my mind than otherwise, I
begged my _Nachbarin_ to lend me a coin, which I slipped without a word