Moses S. Beach photographs from the large collection he had
brought home.

LXVII. A VISIT TO ELMIRA

Meantime he had skilfully obtained a renewal of the invitation to spend
a week in the Langdon home.

He meant to go by a fast train, but, with his natural gift for
misunderstanding time-tables, of course took a slow one, telegraphing
his approach from different stations along the road. Young Langdon
concluded to go down the line as far as Waverly to meet him. When
the New York train reached there the young man found his guest in the
smoking-car, travel-stained and distressingly clad. Mark Twain was
always scrupulously neat and correct of dress in later years, but in
that earlier day neatness and style had not become habitual and did not
give him comfort. Langdon greeted him warmly but with doubt. Finally he
summoned courage to say, hesitatingly--"You've got some other clothes,
haven't you?"

The arriving guest was not in the least disturbed.

"Oh yes," he said with enthusiasm, "I've got a fine brand-new outfit in
this bag, all but a hat. It will be late when we get in, and I won't see
any one to-night. You won't know me in the morning. We'll go out early
and get a hat."

This was a large relief to the younger man, and the rest of the journey
was happy enough. True to promise, the guest appeared at daylight
correctly, even elegantly clad, and an early trip to the shops secured
the hat. A gay and happy week followed--a week during which Samuel
Clemens realized more fully than ever that in his heart there was room
for only one woman in all the world: Olivia Langdon--"Livy," as they
all called her--and as the day of departure drew near it may be that the
gentle girl had made some discoveries, too.

No word had passed between them. Samuel Clemens had the old-fashioned
Southern respect for courtship conventions, and for what, in that day at
least, was regarded as honor. On the morning of the final day he said to
young Langdon:

"Charley, my week is up, and I must go home."

The young man expressed a regret which was genuine enough, though not
wholly unqualified. His older sister, Mrs. Crane, leaving just then for
a trip to the White Mountains, had said:

"Charley, I am sure Mr. Clemens is after our Livy. You mustn't let him
carry her off before our return."

The idea was a disturbing one. The young man did not urge his guest to
prolong his-visit. He said:

"We'll have to stand it, I guess, but you mustn't