any child; but whenever a sensitive, dreamy, and enthusiastic child comes
under strong Evangelistic influence, it is sure to manifest "signs of
saving grace". As far as I can judge now, the total effect of the
Calvinistic training was to make me somewhat morbid, but this tendency
was counteracted by the healthier tone of my mother's thought, and the
natural gay buoyancy of my nature rose swiftly whenever the pressure of
the teaching that I was "a child of sin", and could "not naturally please
God", was removed.

In the spring of 1861, Miss Marryat announced her intention of going
abroad, and asked my dear mother to let me accompany her. A little nephew
whom she had adopted was suffering from cataract, and she desired to
place him under the care of the famous Düsseldorf oculist. Amy Marryat
had been recalled home soon after the death of her mother, who had died
in giving birth to the child adopted by Miss Marryat, and named at her
desire after her favorite brother Frederick (Captain Marryat). Her place
had been taken by a girl a few months older than myself, Emma Mann, one
of the daughters of a clergyman who had married a Miss Stanley, closely
related, indeed if I remember rightly, a sister of the Miss Mary Stanley
who did such noble work in nursing in the Crimea.

For some months we had been diligently studying German, for Miss Marryat
thought it wise that we should know a language fairly well before we
visited the country of which it was the native tongue. We had been
trained also to talk French daily during dinner, so we were not quite
"helpless foreigners" when we steamed away from St. Catherine's Docks,
and found ourselves on the following day in Antwerp, amid what seemed to
us a very Babel of conflicting tongues. Alas for our carefully spoken
French, articulated laboriously. We were lost in that swirl of disputing
luggage-porters, and could not understand a word! But Miss Marryat was