The Argosy — page 159: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

144 My First Situation. Margaret Alford. At last I opened it and read the following, in excellent English :— ‘ Madam,—I feel extremely sorry that the great similarity of names between my brother’s post town and my own, has resulted in your being subjected to the annoyance of being directed to Wolters- dorf instead of to Wellersdorf. I can well understand a foreigner being deceived by the sound. As unfortunately I am obliged to leave home almost immediately, I cannot have the honour of wel- coming you personally, but shall leave orders for the carriage to be in readiness to conduct you to Schloss Dahlsburg at 11 o'clock to- morrow morning. You will get there towards evening, and a telegram will precede you, so that you will be expected and heartily welcomed. ** Yours faithfully, ‘Harry, CouNT DAHLEN.” The date was one o’clock of the previous night. The letter dropped from my hand. A mistake! I had come to the wrong house after all! This was not Dahlsburg, and I must begin a second day’s wanderings in search of my “ family.” Tears of pride and mortification sprang to my eyes. To think that I should have to be beholden to strangers for hospitality! and why did the Count do it all? Perhaps there was no Countess—at which thought I felt particularly uncomfortable—but more probably she was too great a lady to think of the affairs of a poor little governess. At this moment my unpleasant reflections were interrupted by the little black figure reappearing with a tray, which she placed upon a table close to my bedside, begging me to eat, as the way to Dahlsburg was long. But no—I would not touch a crumb in this house into which untoward circumstances had forced me. - I would dress with lightning speed and be off. Scarcely, however, had I finished my toilette, than youth and a healthy appetite asserted themselves. I sat down contrary to all my intentions, and made a hearty breakfast, after which things began to assume a somewhat brighter hue. It suddenly occurred to me that, after all, it was kind of this ‘‘ Herr Graf” —to whom I was an utter stranger, and who could not know that the mistakes were not my fault—to lend me his carriage and make all these arrangements for me. I was sorry I could not thank him, but there was not much more time for reflec- tion, Another rap at the door. This time a loud rap. “Does the gracious Fraulein command the carriage ?” The gracious Fraulein did command the carriage. Quickly stuffing all my little odds and ends into my bag, I put on my hat and was at the front door just as the carriage drew up before it. The coach- man touched his hat, my friend of the night before, now in a neat brown livery, helped me in; the little old housekeeper in black stood at the door, and wished me ‘‘a prosperous journey,” and off we were : out of the gates and down the road, out of sight of Warburg Eomichooks.conr