the
shoulder for one, a hearty hand-shake for another, a jocular nod for
a third. I envied those whose company he sought,--even those whom he
merely accosted.

Presently, to my agreeable surprise, he drew near me, threw away his
cigar, on Kate's account, and said,--

"Lend me a corner of this machine, Sir? No seats to be had."

"Certainly," I responded eagerly, and then, with a bow to Kate, he sat
down upon the foot of my couch. He turned his handsome, roguish face to
me, with a look at once quizzical and tenderly commiserating, while he
rattled off all sorts of lively nonsense about the latest news. The
captain, who pitied my situation, I suppose, came up just then, to ask
if anything could be done to make me more comfortable; and he happened
to call both the stranger and myself by our names. I thus learned that
his was Ryerson.

When he heard mine, he changed color visibly, and looked eagerly at
Kate. I introduced him, and then, with a timidity quite unlike his
former dashing air, he said he had the pleasure of being acquainted with
an admiring friend of hers,--Miss Alice Wellspring. Had she heard from
her lately?

"Yes; she was very well, staying with her aunt."

He was aware of that. He had asked the question, because he thought he
could, perhaps, give later information of her than Kate possessed, and
set her mind at rest about the welfare of her young friend, as she must
be anxious. He was glad to say that Miss Wellspring was quite well--two
hours ago.

Kate made a grimace at me, and answered, that she was "glad to hear it."
Mr. Ryerson looked unutterably grateful, and said he was "sure she must
be."

"Portentous!" whispered Kate to me, when the young man made a passing
sloop the excuse for turning away to hide his blushing temples.

She gave him time, and then asked a few questions concerning Alice's
home and friends. He replied, that she was in "a wretched fix." Her aunt
was a vixen, her home a rigorous prison. He sighed deeply, and seemed
unhappy, until the subject was changed,--a relief which Kate had too
much tact to defer long.

This sunny-hearted fellow made the rest of the journey very short to
me. I think such a spirit is Heaven's very best boon to man. It is a
delightful possession for one's self, and a godsend to one's friends.

When we reached the Astor House, I was put to bed, like a baby, in the
middle of the afternoon, thoroughly exhausted by the unusual excitement.
The crickets and gr