He gave me all the money he possessed to pay the expenses of
my journey. Ah, what a dreary journey! I left Foretdechene in the chill
daybreak, and travelled third class, with dreadful Belgians who smelt of
garlic, to Antwerp. I slept at a very humble inn near the quay, and
started for England by the Baron Osy at noon next day. I cannot tell you
how lonely I felt on board the steamer. I had travelled uncomfortably
before, but never without my father and Valentine--and he had been always
kind to me. If we were shabbily dressed, and people thought ill of us, I
did not care. The spirit of Bohemianism must have been very strong with
me in those days. I remembered how we had sat together on the same boat
watching the sleepy shores of Holland, or making fun of our respectable
fellow-passengers. Now I was quite alone. People stared at me rudely and
unkindly, as I thought. I could not afford to dine or breakfast with the
rest; and I was weak enough to feel wounded by the idea that people would
guess my motive for shunning the savoury banquets that sent up such
horrid odours to the deck where I sat, trying to read a tattered
Tauchnitz novel. And the end of my journey? Ah, Charlotte, you can never
imagine what it is to travel like that, without knowing whether there is
any haven, any shelter for you at the end of your wanderings! I knew that
at a certain hour we were to arrive at St.
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