fter
exploring this I pushed on to Washington Avenue, and then to Madison,
running respectively one and two blocks parallel with Rosalie Court.

Something impelled me to pass by Washington Avenue, upon which Miss
Jenrys and her aunt were lodged, and to explore the farther avenue
first.

'If the rooms are within two or three blocks of the north entrance,' I
said to myself, 'and if they are upon this street, I shall find them
within one block north or south from this corner,' meaning
Fifty-seventh Street, and I turned southward and began my search in
earnest.

Not long since this part of the city had been a beautiful suburb, and
the pretty cottages and more stately villas were, for the most part,
isolated in the midst of their own grounds. Every other house it
seemed, and some of the most pretentious, bore upon paling, piazza, or
door-post the legend 'Rooms to Let,' and I applied and entered at a
number of handsome and home-like portals, first upon the east side and
then upon the west, crossing at Fifty-eighth Street to turn my face
northward.

At Fifty-seventh I paused. 'It is something more than two blocks from
the Fair entrance to this point,' I mused, 'and therefore I ought to
go but one block in this direction.' But when I had traversed the
block to Fifty-sixth Street, with no success, I crossed the street and
went on, saying, 'It's easy for a stranger to be mistaken in a matter
of distance.' At the north end of this square stood a large
old-fashioned mansion, of a decidedly Southern type. It stood upon
terraced grounds, and was a dignified reminder of better days, with
its stained and time-roughened stuccos, and the worn paint about the
ornate cornices. 'Rooms to Let' was the sign upon a tree-trunk, and
after some doubt and hesitation, I went up the terraced steps, crossed
the lawn, and rang a bell much newer than its surroundings.

Once admitted to the wide, inviting hall, with its glimpse of cheerful
dining-room beyond, and a large cool parlour opening at the side, I
felt that Trent might well have sought quarters in this roomy, airy
house; and when the 'lady of the house,' a woman small, elderly,
delicate, and refined, appeared before me, I put my question
hopefully.

'Madam, have you among the inmates of your house a Mr. Gerald Trent?'
I saw by her sudden change of countenance that the name was not
strange to her, and was not surprised when she informed me that a Mr.
Trent had engaged her best suite of