--in time for breakfast, too!

There was not a moment to spare, however, and so, without waiting even
to make my toilet, we hurried to the train.

The relief I experienced when fairly seated in the car, the excitement
of finding myself in the world once more, among bustling, wide-awake
people, stimulated me, and for some time I was unconscious of my
fatigue.

The Englishman was to leave me at a station a few miles beyond Bangor,
as his journey lay in a different direction. We exchanged cards, and I
could not help saying, as we parted:

'I met you a stranger, but I have found in you a friend and a
brother.'[A]

The Scotchman continued on to Boston with me.

His chivalrous and thoughtful consideration remained undiminished.

At last, after many intervals of lassitude and reanimation, I broke down
altogether. My strength left me. Over-powered with grief and fatigue, I
was glad to rest my weary head on my old plaid cloak, which the
Scotchman rolled into a pillow for me in the saloon of the car, where I
lay for the last six hours until we reached Boston.

Kind friends were there to meet me, and the Scotchman gave me into their
charge, a poor, exhausted creature.

But I was in _time_--and that was enough.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] The accomplished author of 'Intuitive Morals,' in an article in
_Fraser's Magazine_, entitled 'A Day at the Dead Sea,' takes occasion to
render a high tribute to the courtesy of our countrymen. She writes:

'If at any time I needed to find a gentleman who should aid me
in any little difficulties of travel, or show me a kindness,
with that consideration for a woman, _as a woman_, which is the
true tone of manly courtesy, then I should desire to find a
North American gentleman.... They are simply the most kind and
courteous of any people.'

It is with heartfelt pleasure that I return this compliment, in this
account of my winter journey, which, but for the constant and delicate
kindness of her countrymen, would have proved wellnigh insupportable.

DIARY OF FRANCES KRASINSKA;

OR, LIFE IN POLAND DURING THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

_January 3d._

Yesterday, amid the drinking of toasts, the peals of joyous music, and
the volleys of musketry from our dragoons in honor of the investiture of
the Duke of Courland, the chamberlain despatched to Warsaw returned,
with letters announcing that the ceremony had been delayed, on account
of the king's illness: it has be