said Marjorie; "the entrance I came in--are there more
than one?"

"A good many more; which avenue do you want?"

Marjorie's heart was beginning to beat rather fast. For the moment she
could not remember; even the name of the hotel--which she had only heard
once or twice--had escaped her recollection.

"I have forgotten the name of the street," she said helplessly, "but
it's the entrance opposite the big hotel."

The policeman looked uncertain, but at that moment a young man riding a
bicycle appeared upon the scene, at sight of whom Marjorie's face
brightened, and she uttered a little gasp of relief.

"That young gentleman knows," she exclaimed joyfully, and, quite
forgetful of her aunt's snub of the evening before, she darted forward,
and hailed the youth on the bicycle quite as if she had been an old
friend.

"Oh, please excuse me for stopping you," she cried, eagerly, "but you
know where I want to go, and I have forgotten the name of the hotel."

The young man brought his bicycle to a standstill; sprang to the ground,
and snatched off his cap. He was evidently very much surprised, but too
polite to show it.

"I beg your pardon," he said in a very pleasant voice; "can I be of any
assistance to you?"

"Yes," said Marjorie, frankly. "I saw you in the hotel dining-room last
night, and I heard my cousin say you lived there. I came out for a walk
before breakfast, and--it's very stupid I suppose--but I can't find my
way back to the entrance where I came in."

A look of comprehension came into the young man's pleasant face, and he
regarded Marjorie with interest not unmixed with amusement.

"I understand," he said; "you are staying at the 'Plaza,' and want to go
back there."

"Yes, that is the name," said Marjorie, looking much relieved; "will you
please show me the way to the gate?"

"Certainly," said her new acquaintance, smiling, and he at once began to
lead the way, pushing his bicycle along beside him.

"Oh, don't you want to get on your wheel again?" Marjorie inquired
anxiously. "I can easily follow if you don't go too fast."

The young man protested that he had ridden quite long enough, and would
be glad of a little walk.

"You are very kind," said Marjorie, heartily. "It was very stupid of me
to lose my way; I never was lost before."

"And do you often walk here in the park?" her new friend inquired,
politely.

"Oh, no, I was never here before. I only came to New York yesterday; my
home is in