were not drinking. Delamere
was not there. Stepping next into the office, he asked the clerk if
young Mr. Delamere had been at the hotel.

"Yes, sir," returned the man at the desk, "he was here at luncheon, and
then went out fishing in a boat with several other gentlemen. I think
they came back about three o'clock. I'll find out for you."

He rang the bell, to which a colored boy responded.

"Front," said the clerk, "see if young Mr. Delamere's upstairs. Look in
255 or 256, and let me know at once."

The bell-boy returned in a moment.

"Yas, suh," he reported, with a suppressed grin, "he's in 256, suh. De
do' was open, an' I seed 'im from de hall, suh."

"I wish you'd go up and tell him," said Ellis, "that--What are you
grinning about?" he asked suddenly, noticing the waiter's expression.

"Nothin', suh, nothin' at all, suh," responded the negro, lapsing into
the stolidity of a wooden Indian. "What shall I tell Mr. Delamere, suh?"

"Tell him," resumed Ellis, still watching the boy suspiciously,--"no, I'll
tell him myself."

He ascended the broad stair to the second floor. There was an upper
balcony and a parlor, with a piano for the musically inclined. To reach
these one had to pass along the hall upon which the room mentioned by
the bell-boy opened. Ellis was quite familiar with the hotel. He could
imagine circumstances under which he would not care to speak to
Delamere; he would merely pass through the hall and glance into the room
casually, as any one else might do, and see what the darky downstairs
might have meant by his impudence.

It required but a moment to reach the room. The door was not wide open,
but far enough ajar for him to see what was going on within.

Two young men, members of the fast set at the Clarendon Club, were
playing cards at a small table, near which stood another, decorated with
an array of empty bottles and glasses. Sprawling on a lounge, with
flushed face and disheveled hair, his collar unfastened, his vest
buttoned awry, lay Tom Delamere, breathing stertorously, in what seemed
a drunken sleep. Lest there should be any doubt of the cause of his
condition, the fingers of his right hand had remained clasped
mechanically around the neck of a bottle which lay across his bosom.

Ellis turned away in disgust, and went slowly back to the ladies.

"There seems to be no one here yet," he reported. "We came a little
early for the evening crowd. The clerk says Tom Delamere was here to
l