supper at her house one dreary November night. The letters of introduction were produced, and all that it meant for the newspaper and its correspondent she fully and immediately realised. She did not ask chillingly, "Do you think people are interested in Hawaiian politics?" but she said, "I believe it is an admirable plan, and that it will be well worth while." Thus far we were able to discuss and reach conclusions with the dignity and self-respect of rational human beings. We might contrive to rise superior to conditions of possible danger, inevitable discomfort, fatigue, and disappointment; but we could not sweep away by one bold stroke, with all our audacity, the inevitable limitations of sex. We both knew that, just, generous, and kind as her husband was, the chances were that if we approached him singly, consecutively, or even in pairs, he too might fail to perceive the practicableness of our designs.

We were forced to resort to schemes and conspiracies, to the exercise of so-called "tact," as usual when women must deal with men in matters a little out of the common, and attempt to demonstrate the performance of the impossible. We sat in silence for a moment, and then she remarked thoughtfully: "I will talk to Mr. N-about it to-morrow, and then you can see him the next day." This, then, was the plan of attack when we parted, I setting out to my home across the city in the teeth of a driving storm, and we carried it out to the letter.

1892.]

SUCCESS.

41

She did talk to him on Monday, and I saw him on Tuesday. As should always happen after such conferences between a liberal-minded husband and a persuasive, intelligent wife, I found him, not convinced, but mollified; hesitating, but open to conviction.

"I feel so certain that it means everything for me professionally, that I am willing to bear my own expense to Honolulu, and return, if you will let me go," I said.

He gazed meditatively out of the window, suppressed a yawn, and then said, "Well, I suppose you may as well go."

I walked out of his office without delay, fearing that he might reconsider his decision. My heart was swelling with pride and triumph-a frame of mind that, in the uncertainty of human affairs and the vanity of human ambition, I might have known could not endure.

CHAPTER II.

DISAPPOINTMENTS AND DELAYS.

THE

HE staff correspondent of a newspaper is like a soldier always under marching orders. The necessity of being in readiness induces one of two conditions: he, or she, has always at hand a stock of serviceable clothing; or the supply is reduced to a minimum, and this remnant so dilapidated that nothing can make it worse.

Thanks to very thorough domestic training in early girlhood, which included a mastery of the art of patching, darning, and mending, my belongings were ready to be packed on short notice. Only three gowns were required - the orthodox black silk. for solemn ceremonials, a white satin to be worn when I should make my bow at court, and a flannel dressing-gown for the steamer.

Shopping has always been to me a purgatorial penance, and I have learned that its torments may be appreciably mitigated by deciding in the privacy of one's chamber just what is required, the colour and fabric, and what it ought to cost. These are requi

1892.]

A FAREWELL DINNER.

43

sites that any one with ordinary common sense ought to decide in a few minutes, and it will be found to save an immense deal of time and of nervous wear and tear. The purchases were made within an hour, and in the hands of the dressmaker without delay. Four days later the gowns were finished, quite splendid, well-fitting, and altogether satisfactory - an example of Chicago skill and dispatch. They were accompanied, when they were sent home, by a bill as long as the train of the court dress.

There was a farewell dinner which a dozen friends assisted pany of artists and journalists. speeches were made, and the

a festal occasion at

a delightful comToasts were drunk, ices came in with

a tiny American flag in each pink and yellow mould a delicate reminder that this protecting ægis was soon to be left behind, and life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness to be sought and found under quite a different arrangement of colours and symbols.

On Saturday, December 10th, the final arrangements were made. I went to the newspaper office for the last official instructions. There I was given my railway tickets, the ticket for my berth in the Pullman, a telegram reserving a state room on the Australia of the Oceanic steamship line, with another from my cousin, who was then at the Mare Island Navy Yard, and to whom I was asked to wire the exact time of my arrival in Oakland. A series of

entertainments had been arranged during the brief stop I was to make in San Francisco to rest from the fatigue of the long overland journey.

Several invitations had come for Sunday; but wishing to spend the day with Mr. and Mrs. C—, of whose household I had been a member for two

years, I declined them all. Friends called, and made their farewells during the afternoon; and at six o'clock I went to my room to change my gown, preparatory to paying the one visit I felt could not be neglected, upon the aged mother of a dear friend.

We left the house together, Mr. and Mrs. C——— and myself. We took a horse-car, and at the corner of Thirty-First Street I left them to catch a crosstown car, which took me almost to the door of my friend's house. Even in the rehabilitated state of the city since the fire there are many things neglected and left undone by the municipality of Chicago that would shock the conservative ideas of Europe. Its side-walks in the outlying streets are one of these evils, and one from which I was destined to suffer, probably for the remainder of my life.

At the corner where I stood waiting for the car, whose green light I saw approaching far off, the sidewalk was elevated at least two feet above the level of the street. There was not the slightest protection in the way of a railing or coping; so when the car halted, throwing a dense shadow across the gutter