“Paul Crawford.”

Carl was glad to receive this letter.  It showed him that his stepmother had not yet succeeded in alienating from him his father’s affection.

But we must return to the point where we left Carl on his journey to Buffalo.  He enjoyed his trip over the Central road during the hours of daylight.  He determined on his return to make an all-day trip so that he might enjoy the scenery through which he now rode in the darkness.

At Buffalo he had no other business except that of Mr. Jennings, and immediately after breakfast he began to make a tour of the furniture establishments.  He met with excellent success, and had the satisfaction of sending home some large orders.  In the evening he took train for Niagara, wishing to see the falls in the early morning, and resume his journey in the afternoon.

He registered at the International Hotel on the American side.  It was too late to do more than take an evening walk, and see the falls gleaming like silver through the darkness.

“I will go to bed early,” thought Carl, “and get up at six o’clock.”

He did go to bed early, but he was more fatigued than he supposed, and slept longer than he anticipated.  It was eight o’clock before he came downstairs.  Before going in to breakfast, he took a turn on the piazzas.  Here he fell in with a sociable gentleman, much addicted to gossip.

“Good-morning!” he said.  “Have you seen the falls yet?”

“I caught a glimpse of them last evening I am going to visit them after breakfast.”

“There are a good many people staying here just now—­some quite noted persons, too.”

“Indeed!”

“Yes, what do you say to an English lord?” and Carl’s new friend nodded with am important air, as if it reflected great credit on the hotel to have so important a guest.

“Does he look different from anyone else?” asked Carl, smiling.

“Well, to tell the truth, he isn’t much to look at,” said the other.  “The gentleman who is with him looks more stylish.  I thought he was the lord at first, but I afterwards learned that he was an American named Stuyvesant.”

Carl started at the familiar name.

“Is he tall and slender, with side whiskers, and does he wear eyeglasses?” he asked, eagerly.

“Yes; you know him then?” said the other, in surprise.

“Yes,” answered Carl, with a smile, “I am slightly acquainted with him.  I am very anxious to meet him again.”

CHAPTER XXXIV.

Carl makes the acquaintance of an English lord.

“There they are now,” said the stranger, suddenly pointing out two persons walking slowly along the piazza.  “The small man, in the rough suit, and mutton-chop whiskers, is Lord Bedford.”