arriage. I sent to the ticket-office for my valise, and we rode to the
St. Nicholas. I fairly laughed as I gave the hackman at the hotel door
what would have been my last dollar and a half only two hours before. I
entered Miss Jones's name and my own. The clerk looked, and said,
inquiringly,--

"Is it Miss Jones's trunk which came this afternoon?"

I followed his finger to see the trunk on the marble floor. Rowdy Rob
had deserted it, having seen, perhaps, a detective when he reached
Piermont. The trunk had gone to Albany, had found no owner, and had
returned by the day boat of that day.

Fausta went to her room, and I sent her supper after her. One kiss and
"Good night" was all that I got from her then.

"In the morning," said she, "you shall explain."

It was not yet seven, I went to my own room and dressed, and tendered
myself at the mayor's just before his gay party sat down to dine. I met,
for the first time in my life, men whose books I had read, and whose
speeches I had by heart, and women whom I have since known to honor;
and, in the midst of this brilliant group, so excited had Mr. A---- been
in telling the strange story of the day, I was, for the hour, the lion.

I led Mrs. A---- to the table; I made her laugh very heartily by telling
her of the usher's threats to me, and mine to him, and of the disgrace
into which I fell among the three thousand six hundreds. I had never
been at any such party before. But I found it was only rather simpler
and more quiet than most parties I had seen, that its good breeding was
exactly that of dear Betsy Myers.

As the party broke up, Mrs. A---- said to me,--

"Mr. Carter, I am sure you are tired, with all this excitement. You say
you are a stranger here. Let me send round for your trunk to the St.
Nicholas, and you shall spend the night here. I know I can make you a
better bed than they."

I thought as much myself, and assented. In half an hour more I was in
bed in Mrs. A----'s "best room."

"I shall not sleep better," said I to myself, "than I did last night."

That was what the Public did for me that night. I was safe again!

CHAPTER LAST.

FAUSTA'S STORY.

Fausta slept late, poor child. I called for her before breakfast. I
waited for her after. About ten she appeared, so radiant, so beautiful,
and so kind! The trunk had revealed a dress I never saw before, and the
sense of rest, and eternal security, and unbroken love had revealed a
charm which was neve