CHAPTER IV.
MY COMPANIONS.
"Vous etes belle: ainsi donc la moitie Du genre humain sera votre ennemie." _Voltaire_.
"Oh, I think the cause Of much was, they forgot no crowd Makes up for parents in their shroud." _R.

Browning_.
The servant came to call me down to tea while I was still sitting with my face in my hands upon the bed.

I started up, lit the candles on the dressing-table, arranged my hair, washed the tears off my face, and hurried down the stairs.

They were waiting for me in the parlor, and no doubt were quite impatient, as they had already waited for the arrival of the evening train, and it was nearly eight o'clock.

The evening train had brought Mr.Eugene Whitney, of whom I can only say, that he was a very insignificant young man indeed.