“I’ll do my best to meet this Mr. Ridgeway.  I am frequently in Chicago,” said he.  “Glad to have met you, Mr. Woods, anyhow.  If you are ever in Baltimore, hunt me up.  I am in the E—–­ Building.”

“With pleasure, doctor; how long will you be in New York?”

“I am going away to-morrow.”

“Won’t you come with me to my club?” began Woods, but Hugh interrupted by beckoning to the omnipresent porter.

“Thanks!  Much obliged!  Like to, you know, but have an appointment!” And, shaking his hand, “Good-by!”

“Good-by!” gasped Woods reluctantly, as if desiring one word more.  But Hugh, with a grin on his face that awakened renewed expectations on the part of the porter, was making, stiff and straight, for the baggage-room.  Once, looking back over his shoulder, he saw that Woods was standing stock still; and again, with another smile, he watched his mystified friend slowly depart.

“Now, then, my man, tell me quickly—­you gave her the note?  What did she do?  Where did she go?  Out with it—­why don’t you speak?”

“All right, sir.  Everything’s all right.  The lady has gone to the hotel,” replied the man as soon as Hugh gave him a chance to answer.

“Good.  Find me another cab, quick.  And here,” handing him a dollar.

Meanwhile, Grace Vernon, quite sanguine of soon being with Hugh, was approaching the lower part of the city, reasoning, quite logically, that a downtown hotel was selected on account of the probable absence of the ultra-fashionable set.  There, their secret would be safe,—­and also they would be nearer the steamer.

Arriving at her destination, Grace dismissed the disappointed cabman, and entered the ladies’ waiting-room, where she rang for the clerk.

“Is there a Mr. Ridge staying here?” she asked of him with an assurance that, she flattered herself, was admirably assumed.

“No such person with us, madam.  Were you expecting him?”

“Why, yes,” she replied, a little confused.  “He should be here any minute.”

And to his inquiry as to whether she would require anything in the meantime, there came a reply in the negative and he departed.

With a sigh of relief at being alone, she crossed over to a desk and busied herself in writing a long letter.  This accomplished, she arose, moved over to the window and looked out.  The waiting-room faced the main artery of the city, and below her was the endless stream of humanity.  Endeavoring to check a slight feeling of uneasiness that was fast coming over her at Hugh’s unexpected non-appearance, she tried to concentrate her thoughts on the panorama of the streets.  A half hour passed.  Then, in spite of herself, nervousness assailed her.  What could be keeping him?  Had he met with an accident?  Or, could she have made a mistake in the name under which he was to register—­could he be waiting for her all the time?  Back and forth, to and fro the girl paced.  Thoroughly alarmed and in spite of a sense of mortification at such an undertaking, she again interviewed the clerk.