to further no such bad business; there was nothing for it but to bestow my confidence upon him, and I broke out with the exclamation: "It is my husband, sir; and I am a stranger in town, and do not know my way; and I have lost him, and we are to leave to-night, and the boat goes at five," and it was too much for me, and then I cried again. "I'll tell him," said he. And straightway I felt as if I had one protector, and could have embraced him on the spot. But I restrained my feelings, and meekly hurried to my destination. I had always thought Delmonico's was on Broadway; there were two, I knew, and this must be the downtown one; but when I reached the designated place, no such place was to be found. I looked about me, and at a short distance down Chambers-street a little modest sign caught my eye. Could that be the great and mighty Delmonico's? How was I to know? Must I have the misery of addressing another stranger-could this one tell me where I should find the ladies' entrance to Delmonico's? "Couldn't raally," was the response, as the individual resumed his whistle, and passed on with his hands in his tan-coloured pockets, leaving me only the satisfaction of knowing that the rain was sousing him as wet as I was. However, I made for the modest sign, pushed open the door, ran up the stairs, and looked into the great room; peradventure-the wild thought flashed over me-Charlie had given up the search and come here to wait for me; I looked in, I say; saw a different place, at first glance, from Welcker's or from Parker's, but no Charlie. I made bold enough to ask the gentleman at the desk if this were the ladies' dining-hall, and had no doubt of his surprise at seeing me, on his answering in the affirmative, leave the place as if I had been shot. I dared not stay up there in any one of those enticing seats, I must go down and wait in the open porch, thence looking up and numbering all that passed the head of the street; and, being seen of them, I could thus see all the people still who passed along Broadway, and if Charlie were among them, I should certainly see him, and he might possibly see me. Still I waited and watched, and still he did not come. My glasses were so blurred with the continual pattering of the rain that I hardly trusted them any longer. If I could find a messenger now, I would send up to the Fifth Avenue, and have word left there as to my whereabouts; but nobody passed that looked at all as if an errand would be an object. What a decent and well-clothed set of people frequented Chambers-street! not a ragged one among them all. At last a boy with holes in his shoes-what delightful holes, shoes handsomer than Cinderella's-shuffled by. I hailed him, forgetful of everything but my absolute necessities. Would he do me an errand? "Where to?" "The Fifth Avenue." "No, indeed," with a fiendish little laugh. "But I will pay you?" "Don't want your pay." And he too went by on the other side. Everybody hurried along, everybody had somewhere to hurry to. I remembered my gay friends of the morning, sitting now in their elegant dresses with attentive groups around them, and here was I, lost, bewildered, shelterless. Nobody knew and nobody cared anything about my misery. The only comfort I had was that I could still see my policeman, standing stolid in the storm. Where could Charlie be? I began to get angry as well as all the rest-angry with fate, it may be, but certainly not with Charlie. It must be late by this time; even if he came now we shouldn't probably have time to reach the boat, and it would go off, and my precious, precious manuscript on board, and here we would be left in the great town without a single cent to bless us. What would become of me? Something must have happened to Charlie; he must be dead; and I never should know! Tears-I am afraid I am great on tears-ran down my cheeks in unrepressed succession. A woman stepped up into the porch beside me to find safety for a gorgeous new bonnet; she had some vain idea that it was going to stop raining presently. I asked her if she knew what time it was-I was case-hardened now-and she informed me by a lovely little watch, with a tiny fox and hounds coursing along the chain, that it was five minutes past four, and put the finishing stroke to my trouble thereby. But I did not dare to ask her if she had not made a mistake, and it was really four minutes past five; I didn't want to know if it was, relief though it would have been. I watched the head of the street as a cat watches a mouse. The woman wanted to open a conversation, but I had to turn my head to hear what she said, owing to the noise of wind and rain and pavement, and finally told her I could not talk, for I was looking for my husband, and was encouraged by her cheerful opinion that it was like looking for a needle in a haymow. Gentlemen were going in and out of the doors behind me; they all seemed to have bold eyes. I fancied painfully and shamefully that they were all fast men; one pleasant woman came out, and I blessed her for making the place respectable for such a castaway as I to stand in. And still no Charlie. Still I stood there, puzzling, thinking, resolving, and all at once saying to myself that Charlie was of such a free-and-easy sort, he had probably gone back to the hotel, and would expect me to turn up there, and we should remain in New York while he telegraphed home for money. And, just as I was taking comfort, I remembered that you cannot sign receipts for dividends by telegraph; and the fall from my buoyant anticipation was fathoms deep into trouble and bewilderment and fright again. Suddenly I gave a start; an omnibus was passing the head of the street; a great, broadbrimmed, black hat, and a pair of black eyes beneath it, were out of the window, evidently in search of some one through the throng upon the sidewalk. Heaven be thanked! it was Charlie, and no one else. I sprang into the street without a word to my woman, regardless of rain, or umbrellas, or crowds, or any one, and made after the omnibus, shouting, "Charlie! Charlie! Charlie!" at the top of my voice. Just then the driver whipped up his horses; Charlie never heard me; the omnibus dashed along; I dashed after it. My only salvation was in keeping that vehicle in sight. I was a disreputable looking thing enough-wet, draggled, blown to pieces, and dishevelled, and chasing somebody in an omnibus. But if Charlie didn't see me the crowd did; everybody looked, everybody turned, everybody waved their umbrellas, everybody began chasing the omnibus with me, everybody shouted Charlie, and at last, just as I was ready to drop, panting and breathless, Charlie seemed to perceive that something unusual was happening, glanced about him hurriedly, pulled the check, leaped out and caught me. I never knew what joy was before. "You are a pretty-looking object," was his first exclamation, as he tucked me under his arm and walked off. "And as for me, I never experienced anything like it in my life-couldn't have happened in any other city under the sun! Got an expressman to take my trunks across; he promised to be there in fifteen minutes, and if I waited a minute I waited two mortal hours for the rascal-knew if I didn't, my luggage would all be dumped down in the dock and made off with. However, I guess we've time for a plate of soup at Delmonico's found a bill in my vest-pocket. Was that where you were? Shouldn't have dreamed of going for you there till everything else failed." And never did any triumphant Roman with his trophies feel more pride than did I when I vindicated myself and paraded my newly found husband by the woman waiting for the rain to leave off and save her gorgeous bonnet. "You see I found my needle," I said. "Good-bye." "But how came you in the stage ?" I asked Charlic, presently, as we burned our mouths with our soup. "Why, the steamboat landing I found to be halfway up town," said he. "So I took a stage, meaning to ride down to the Astor House corner as appointed, and if I didn't find you, saunter up." "I don't believe I've been at the Astor House corner at all. But did you suppose I would wait out there in the rain?" แ No, I fancy you know enough to go in when it rains. Nevertheless, that worried me out of my wits, as it seems to have worried you. But," said Charlie, mischievously, "I saw I must either lose my luggage or my wife, and I decided I would attend to my luggage!" Do you wonder that I hate newspapers? "Well," said I, as we steamed over the Sound at last, taking out my single purchase in ecstasy, after having been reviled for finding no stores in all Broadway with anything in the windows, "at any rate I have this." "Let me see it," said Charlie. "Where did you get it?" I mildly told him, and was consternated to see him fillip it with his thumb and finger, as he replied, "I thought so! The great Bogus Jewellery Store; the place of Attleboro' splendours! Viennese workmanship, indeed! eighteen carats fine, and the diamonds real! Thirty dollars! You are no more to be trusted with money in your pocket" Charlie stopped, recollecting the money in his pocket that morning. "Thirty dollars! thirty cents would have been high, my love. It isn't worth the tin it's gilt on !" "The natural consequence, my love, of leaving me to shop alone in Broadway!" A TALE OF THE TROPICS. TOM HOOD. TITTI FAL LAY was a lovely maid- |