hough it was very nice; but she kept straight on, like a mechanical
doll, until I felt that in common humanity I ought to fan her. If
anyone in England, especially anyone in her position (only there aren't
such positions) had asked half as many questions as she did, people
would be extremely surprised and offended; but I would defy even the
crossest person to be offended with this soft brown thing. It would
have been too ungrateful not to answer her nicely when she was keeping
my flies at bay with extreme inconvenience to herself, so I admitted
that I was English, told what county I came from, how long I'd been in
the States, where I'd been staying, how I liked America, where I was
going now, and ended up by satisfying her as to my age and whether I
had a mother. I also stated that I was neither married nor engaged. The
dear creature rewarded me for all this by telling me a great deal about
herself and her relatives, and a church picnic she attended last
Sunday, where there were more young gentlemen than ladies--"which
always makes parties so nice for us girls."

"I must say that's a mighty pretty hat you've got," said she at last.
"I reckon it came from England. And my, but that _is_ a sweet waist.
I'd give my life for that waist."

If I had had a twin sister of the sweet waist with me, I couldn't have
resisted pressing it upon her, and I don't believe she would have
refused.

As soon as Mr. Brett got me nicely settled in my room, he said we
wouldn't meet again during the journey. I was sorry and wanted to know
why, so he explained that his ticket was different from mine. I hope
that is the only reason, really, and that it isn't because he thinks he
ought not to be travelling with me. I suppose he is going second class.

I did miss him at dinner, which I had in a grand restaurant car, about
half a mile away from me in the train. It was fun being there, seeing
all the people, and being served by fascinating black waiters, but it
would have been more fun with him. I longed to exclaim to Mr. Brett
about the glorious sunset which marched with us along the Hudson River
for an enchanted hour, and I couldn't half enjoy it for wondering every
minute, as it changed from one beauty to another, whether he were
watching too.

We have tenderly radiant sunsets at home, which I love; but they're not
startlingly magnificent as in America, where all things--even cloud
effects--are managed on such a sensational scale. I saw some sk