"He looked at me a minute, and smiled with his eyes.
"'It is about six hours, I think,' he answered; 'any coachman will take you to the depot.'
"I was rather discouraged. If it took him six hours to run the distance, I should find it a long walk. So I concluded to hire a carriage and take my trunk along.
"After awhile my trunk came up with a heap of other baggage, and, as everybody else was starting off in carriages, I hired one too; and when the man asked where I wanted to go, I told him to the Louvre Hotel in Paris. He drove away at once, and after a few minutes stopped at a railroad depot, and opened the door for me to get out.
"'This is the right train,' he said, in the queerest English I ever heard. 'I will get you a ticket.'
"I felt myself blushing, but said nothing. He didn't know that I had thought of walking. In less than ten minutes I was whizzing along like anything over the most beautiful country, and through the queerest old towns, and by the strangest houses with points and caps and corners like great table-casters cut in stone. Then the dark came on, and I fell sound asleep, till a great crash and jar awoke me in a depot right in the midst of a city larger than New York, all blazing with lights and crowded with folks.
"I had learned a thing or two by this time, and when a driver put himself in my way, told him that I wanted to go to Mr. Louvre's Hotel, and that he'd better get my trunk. He didn't seem to understand a word except the name of Mr. Louvre; but he caught that at once and nodded his head.
"'We, we!'
"'Yes,' I said, 'both of us. You couldn't very well drive me without going too, I should think.'
"So up he came with a little one-horse concern, and in I got. Oh! what streets, and lanes, and roads of lamps I went through! What crowds of people—what tall, tall houses! They made me more dizzy than I had been, and that was bad enough."