tever they
have in use. And if I can't return Saturday----However, here I am, and
I'll go through with it.

Southampton, directly alongside of the _Regina_. Magnificent vessel.
Crowd trooping in out of train. Men in uniform at gangway, directing
everyone to go below and get billeted. I join the crowd descending the
companion. As everyone comes to a table where certain M.& N. officials
are standing, each person shows his or her invitation-card, and receives
a number. Then they disappear, some singly, some in couples, as if it
were the Ark, and ROSSHER were NOAH settling it all. Evidently the first
thing necessary is the invitation-card. Ha! there is ROSSHER in the
distance, at the far corner of the table. I wave my hand to him in the
heartiest manner, expressive of my delight at seeing him, and I am
sincerely grateful, for I feel at this moment that ROSSHER is the only
friend I have in this strange world, from which I am liable at any
moment to be summarily ejected, being unable to show my _raison d'etre_
in the shape of the invitation-card.

"Name?" says a sharp man in ordinary civilian's dress, from whom,
judging by his tone and business-like manner, I feel confident I can
expect no mercy. "I haven't got one," I reply, whereat he frowns as if
he didn't mean to stand any nonsense, and I apologise humbly for having
mistaken his question. _I_ thought he was asking for my card. "No," he
says, eying me suspiciously. "Name! Where is it? Down here?" And he
hands me the confounded list, at which I make no pretence of looking,
but cast an appealing look towards ROSSHER, who at that moment, most
fortunately for me, comes up, having finished shaking hands with two
hundred out of the two hundred and fifty arrivals.

"Ah! you here!" he exclaims, with an air of cheery surprise. "That's
capital. Didn't know you were coming."

I am considerably staggered. "Why," I say to him, protesting, "I
telegraphed----"

"Ah!" says ROSSHER in an off-hand way, "then I didn't receive it. You
wait quietly here, and we'll see what can be done for you."

I catch Weather-beaten Stranger's eye. He is waiting, also, with his
back against a cabin-door, most patiently. I meet several friends. I
explain to them all, over and over again, my melancholy story, and while
I do so I stand as near the table as possible, so that the sad tale may
reach some of the officials, and excite them to pity and immediate
action on my behalf. My friends nod at me pleasa