s which were as appalling as a
procession of African lions. When I came to the end I caught the eye of
a well-groomed young man in a pale gray top coat, looking down from his
high seat at the back of a dark green hansom with great round portholes
knocked in the sides, and it struck me that there was pity kindling in
his glance. I snatched at the ray as if it had been that everlasting
straw which always seems to be bobbing about when an author is drowning
one of his characters.

"_Do_ you think there is anybody who could drive me?" I enquired,
meekly.

"You bet, Miss," said he. "I'm engaged myself, or I'd be only too
pleased, but you just speak to that other gentleman there,"--with an
encouraging jerk of his sleek head towards the next vehicle. "He'll
take you anywhere you want to go."

"Are you sure it isn't a private hansom?" I breathed up to him in a
low, confidential voice, for the cab he indicated was even finer than
his, and Stan doesn't look as smart on his coach on a Coaching Parade
day in the Park, as did the gentleman I was recommended to address.

"Sure pop," said my friend, grinning, but not in a way to hurt my
feelings; so I thanked him, and we both bowed very politely; and the
new man, who had heard after all, said that none of the hansoms were
private; anybody might have them who could pay; but I needn't be
afraid, he wouldn't charge me too much.

When he asked where I wanted to go, after all I hadn't the courage to
mention the Club. The only other place I could think of was the
Waldorf-Astoria, where Potter had said any stranger who liked could
walk in and sit down. I told the man to drive me there, so he did, and
only charged me fifty cents, which he hinted was a very special price.
"We don't want you English young ladies to think bad of us," he
explained, and I assured him there was no danger of that, if I could
judge by myself.

They wouldn't let me go into the Turkish room--which I remembered very
well--with Vivace, so I had to give him up to be fed and taken care of,
and I was obliged to part with my bag too. Then I wrote a note to Mr.
Brett, just a few lines, saying that I was alone in New York, in a
little difficulty, and remembering his kind offer, I ventured to ask if
he would come to the Turkish Room at the Waldorf-Astoria to help me
with advice.

A messenger took the letter--such an aggressively brisk child, I was
sure he wouldn't waste a second on the way--and as soon as he had gone