I would insert an advertisement for a female typewriter, if only to spite Statia Barton! Dr. Chambers had almost forbidden me to travel alone. I had a right to select my companion, and it was the business of no one--least of all of a woman who had thrown me over--whether the person I chose wore pantaloons or petticoats. Going to one of the desks I took up a pen, dipped it in ink, and tried to indite a suitable announcement. My hand shook, for I had not recovered a quarter of my normal strength. When I had written the first line it would have puzzled the best copy-holder in the office above to decipher it. I tore it up, took a second piece of paper and began again. When I had written the advertisement at last it did not suit me, and once more I essayed the task with new construction. Other men and several women were using the desks about me, and I glanced at them to see if any nervousness was visible on their countenances. There appeared to be none, however, which fact made my own sensations harder than ever to bear. Several times I fancied that the clerks behind the wire guards were watching me, that they had managed in some mysterious manner to see over my shoulder, and were laughing at my efforts. Still I hated to give up beaten. It is a part of my nature to carry out any task which I have attempted, no matter how insignificant. I took the pen once more and finally completed with difficulty the following: TYPEWRITER WANTED--To travel in the Tropics for the winter. Duties light, salary satisfactory. Machine Furnished. Address--Herald up-town. Just as I was about to take this to one of the clerks, an extremely pretty young woman came to the desk I was using and attracted my attention. She had a pair of solitaire diamonds in her beautiful ears and half a dozen costly rings on her pretty fingers. She wore a tastily trimmed hat, with veil, a well fitting seal coat and a plaided silk skirt of subdued colors. I judged her to be the wife or daughter of some wealthy man, who had come to advertise for a maid or cook. With a few quick strokes of the pen, in a hand that I saw was clear and bold, she completed her writing and stepped quickly to the nearest counter. I followed her; and as there was already one customer engaging the attention of the clerk, I plainly saw the notice she had written, as she held it daintily against her muff. Its purport was as follows: A YOUNG LADY, stranger in the city, beautiful of face and form, 22 years of age, suddenly thrown on her own resources, wishes the acquaintance of elderly gent. The clerk looked up and nodded to the fair creature, when her turn came. He had evidently seen her there before. "You have forgotten again," he said, smiling. "Object matrimony." "So, I have," she answered, in mellifluous tones. "It seems so silly, you know." "A rule of the office," he responded, adding the words for her. "Dollar and a half."