I had replenished our wardrobe, which certainly needed it, and we continued our journey without much difficulty as far as Cologne, although on passing through Strasbourg I had a nervous attack from sorrow and despair. On arriving at Cologne we had a cruel disappointment. The train had only just entered the station, when a railway official, passing quickly in front of the carriages, shouted something in German, which I did not catch. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, and men and women pushed each other without any courtesy. I addressed another official and showed him our tickets. He took up my bag very obligingly, and hurried after the crowd. We followed, but I did not understand the excitement, until the man flung my bag into a compartment, and signed to me to get in as quickly as possible. Mlle. Soubise was already on the step, when she was pushed aside violently by a railway porter, who slammed the door, and before I was fully aware of what had happened, the train had disappeared. My bag had gone in the carriage, and my trunk was with all the other trunks, in a luggage van that had been unhooked from the train which had arrived and fastened on to the express which had left. I began to cry with rage. An official took pity on us and led us to the station master. He was a very superior sort of man, who spoke French fairly well. I sank down in his great leather armchair, and told him my misadventure, sobbing nervously. He looked kind and sympathetic. He immediately telegraphed for my bag and trunk to be given into the care of the station master at the first station. “You will have them again to-morrow, toward midday,” he said. “Then I cannot start this evening?” I asked. “Oh, no, that is impossible,” he replied. “There is no train, for the express that will take you to Hombourg does not start before to-morrow morning.” “O God, God!” I exclaimed, and I was seized with veritable despair, which soon affected Mlle. Soubise, too. The poor station master was rather embarrassed and tried to soothe me. “Do you know anyone here?” he asked. “No, no one. I have only been to Baden-Baden. That was three years ago, and I do not know anyone in Cologne.” “Well, then, I will have you driven to the Hôtel du Nord. My sister-in-law has been there for two days and she will look after you.” Half an hour later his carriage arrived and he took us to the Hôtel du Nord, after driving a long way around to show us the city. But at that time I did not admire anything belonging to the Germans.