d been a resident of Hampton Roads just
fifteen minutes, and that, having had a pretty good view of the place,
he was then making his way out of the door to Charleston, without any
breakfast, because there was no room in the inn.

"Oh, that never'll do. That cannot be permitted," said his engaging
friend, with an air of determination. "Besides, I want you to go with us
on an excursion today up the James and help me chaperon a lot of young
ladies. No, you cannot go away."

And before Mr. Stanhope King--for that was the name the traveler had
inscribed on the register--knew exactly what had happened, by some
mysterious power which women can exercise even in a hotel, when
they choose, he found himself in possession of a room, and was
gayly breakfasting with a merry party at a little round table in the
dining-room.

"He appears to know everybody," was Mrs. Benson's comment to Irene, as
she observed his greeting of one and another as the guests tardily came
down to breakfast. "Anyway, he's a genteel-looking party. I wonder if he
belongs to Sotor, King and Co., of New York?"

"Oh, mother," began Irene, with a quick glance at the people at the next
table; and then, "if he is a genteel party, very likely he's a drummer.
The drummers know everybody."

And Irene confined her attention strictly to her breakfast, and never
looked up, although Mrs. Benson kept prattling away about the young
man's appearance, wondering if his eyes were dark blue or only dark
gray, and why he didn't part his hair exactly in the middle and done
with it, and a full, close beard was becoming, and he had a good, frank
face anyway, and why didn't the Stimpsons come down; and, "Oh, there's
the Van Peagrims," and Mrs. Benson bowed sweetly and repeatedly to
somebody across the room.

To an angel, or even to that approach to an angel in this world, a
person who has satisfied his appetite, the spectacle of a crowd of
people feeding together in a large room must be a little humiliating.
The fact is that no animal appears at its best in this necessary
occupation. But a hotel breakfast-room is not without interest. The very
way in which people enter the room is a revelation of character. Mr.
King, who was put in good humor by falling on his feet, as it were, in
such agreeable company, amused himself by studying the guests as they
entered. There was the portly, florid man, who "swelled" in, patronizing
the entire room, followed by a meek little wife and three