Adrift like a floating spar I was swept away and driven ashore amid the baby-linen.

There it flung me high and dry among the shop-girls, who laughed at the spectacle of an undergraduate shipwrecked among the necessaries of babyhood.

I felt shy, and attaching myself to the fortunes of an Englishwoman, who worked her elbows with the vigor of her nation, I was borne around nearly twenty counters.

At last, wearied, mazed, dusty as with a long summer walk, I took refuge in the reading-room.
Poor simpleton! I said to myself, you are too early; you might have known that.

She can not come with her father before the National Library closes.