that I was in hope she would change her
mind, and knew that it would be impossible to secure the rooms requested
for a person unknown to the proprietors or attaches of the hotel.

The explanation seemed to satisfy her. Turning to me suddenly, she
exclaimed:

"You have not had your dinner, Lizzie, and must be hungry. I nearly
forgot about it in the joy of seeing you. You must go down to the table
right away."

She pulled the bell-rope, and a servant appearing, she ordered him to
give me my dinner. I followed him down-stairs, and he led me into the
dining-hall, and seated me at a table in one corner of the room. I was
giving my order, when the steward came forward and gruffly said:

"You are in the wrong room."

"I was brought here by the waiter," I replied.

"It makes no difference; I will find you another place where you can eat
your dinner."

I got up from the table and followed him, and when outside of the door,
said to him:

"It is very strange that you should permit me to be seated at the table
in the dining-room only for the sake of ordering me to leave it the next
moment."

"Are you not Mrs. Clarke's servant?" was his abrupt question.

"I am with Mrs. Clarke."

"It is all the same; servants are not allowed to eat in the large
dining-room. Here, this way; you must take your dinner in the servants'
hall."

Hungry and humiliated as I was, I was willing to follow to any place to
get my dinner, for I had been riding all day, and had not tasted a
mouthful since early morning.

On reaching the servants' hall we found the door of the room locked. The
waiter left me standing in the passage while he went to inform the clerk
of the fact.

In a few minutes the obsequious clerk came blustering down the hall:

"Did you come out of the street, or from Mrs. Clarke's room?"

"From Mrs. Clarke's room," I meekly answered. My gentle words seemed to
quiet him, and then he explained:

"It is after the regular hour for dinner. The room is locked up, and
Annie has gone out with the key."

My pride would not let me stand longer in the hall.

"Very well," I remarked, as I began climbing the stairs, "I will tell
Mrs. Clarke that I cannot get any dinner."

He looked after me, with a scowl on his face:

"You need not put on airs! I understand the whole thing."

I said nothing, but continued to climb the stairs, thinking to myself:
"Well, if you understand the whole thing, it is strange that you should
put the wi