us," urged the young man, alluding
again to the friend on the steamer.

"Never mind what he told us!" answered his comrade, who, if he had
greater talents, was also apparently more of a moralist.

By bedtime--in their impatience to taste of a terrestrial couch again
our seafarers went to bed early--it was still insufferably hot, and
the buzz of the mosquitoes at the open windows might have passed for an
audible crepitation of the temperature. "We can't stand this, you know,"
the young Englishmen said to each other; and they tossed about all night
more boisterously than they had tossed upon the Atlantic billows. On the
morrow, their first thought was that they would re-embark that day for
England; and then it occured to them that they might find an asylum
nearer at hand. The cave of Aeolus became their ideal of comfort, and
they wondered where the Americans went when they wished to cool
off. They had not the least idea, and they determined to apply for
information to Mr. J. L. Westgate. This was the name inscribed in a bold
hand on the back of a letter carefully preserved in the pocketbook of
our junior traveler. Beneath the address, in the left-hand corner of the
envelope, were the words, "Introducing Lord Lambeth and Percy Beaumont,
Esq." The letter had been given to the two Englishmen by a good friend
of theirs in London, who had been in America two years previously, and
had singled out Mr. J. L. Westgate from the many friends he had left
there as the consignee, as it were, of his compatriots. "He is a capital
fellow," the Englishman in London had said, "and he has got an awfully
pretty wife. He's tremendously hospitable--he will do everything in the
world for you; and as he knows everyone over there, it is quite needless
I should give you any other introduction. He will make you see everyone;
trust to him for putting you into circulation. He has got a tremendously
pretty wife." It was natural that in the hour of tribulation Lord
Lambeth and Mr. Percy Beaumont should have bethought themselves of a
gentleman whose attractions had been thus vividly depicted; all the more
so that he lived in the Fifth Avenue, and that the Fifth Avenue, as they
had ascertained the night before, was contiguous to their hotel. "Ten
to one he'll be out of town," said Percy Beaumont; "but we can at least
find out where he has gone, and we can immediately start in pursuit. He
can't possibly have gone to a hotter place, you know."

"Oh, there