couple should have arrived.

At about train-time Fox bought a cigar and took a seat in the
smoking-car, while I purchased a cheap edition of one of Dickens's
stories and settled myself down in a ladies' car.

The trip to Charlotte was soon made through a beautiful country where
the farmers were busy stacking their grain, threshing, and, in some
instances, turning the black loam to the sun that it might early mellow
for the next year's seed-time, and in a half-hour we were at Charlotte,
where the beautiful lake is seen at one's feet, with its rippling waves
dotted here and there by a hundred dreamy sails and lazy steamers from
as many waiting ports.

Fox immediately made inquiries of the villagers where he could find the
road leading into Charlotte from Rochester, and started out towards it
from the depot at a brisk walk, while I waited until he had got well
under way, when I took a short stroll among the warehouses and shipping
of the harbor, and then went to the only hotel of any importance the
place contained, where I knew Mrs. Winslow and Le Compte would be likely
to stop, and engaged a room in the front part of the house, where I
resumed my story and waited, like Micawber, for "something to turn up."

I had been engaged at my book but a short time when I saw Fox come up
the street towards the hotel at a rapid pace, flushed and perspiring
freely as from a very long and rapid walk, and but a moment afterwards
also saw the dashing Rochester turnout whirling up to the hotel.

The arrival at the hotel of the couple bore out the truth of the
statement of the little Dutchman, contained in Fox's report of his trip
to the half-way house, as the habitues of the house seemed quite
accustomed to their presence and the employees stepped about nimbly, as
they generally do at hotels as a greeting to good customers, and they
generally do not when persons of common appearance arrive.

As good luck would have it, after a few moments had elapsed, "Mr. and
Mrs. Jones, of Rochester," as Fox saw they had registered, were ushered
into a room adjoining my own, and between which, as is quite common at
hotels, there was a door, which might be opened for the purpose of
throwing the rooms _en suite_, as occasion required.

Although I was prevented from seeing the couple, their voices, which
were both familiar to me, could not be mistaken; and I could not
restrain a smile as I listened to the little Frenchman's voluble and
peculiarly-con