with you as much as possible--but I cannot involve the office in these
wild capers. Come, or we shall be scolded. Wouldn't it be fine, mother,
if we could tame father? But cheer up, mother; we may laugh last about
this. Let us see the bright side which is--Come! You hear him."

Mother and daughter descended the one flight of stairs arm in arm,
preceded by the impatient guide, who was calculating on every
circumstance that might arise between Ninety-sixth Street and the
Hoboken ferry. Katie trailed behind with bags and shawl-strap bundles. A
small steamer trunk that Katie had filled with things easy to find had
been placed on the front of the coach by the driver, who evidently
regarded the job as the early departure of a European party.

When the three women were stowed in the coach after less than an hour's
preparation, with their sleep rudely disturbed and without even a cup of
coffee to vanquish the chill of the early morn, it may be assumed that
they were not more cheerful than the dismal gray of the town. The man of
the inside party had been awake all night; he was feverish and fretful,
but he had nothing to say in the presence of the servant. Katie probably
believed there had been a death in the family, and they were hastily
driving to the home of some relative. Most of the conversation was
between Mrs. Tescheron and Katie, and was carried on in whispers. Mrs.
Tescheron drew forth the information that about a dozen things she would
not need were in the trunk, and several score of necessities had been
left at home.

"I remember the Stuffer House," said Mrs. Tescheron, making bold to
address her daughter. "Don't you remember four years ago we stopped
there overnight? It's named, I suppose, for the proprietor, who told me
he was of the same family as the Stevenses of Hoboken. Yes, I remember,
he said Stevens, Steffens, Stuffens and Stuffers all came from the same
family."

"I remember the stuffed birds everywhere," said Gabrielle; "many of them
exceedingly rare specimens, I believe some one said. Somehow, I have
always connected stuffed birds with the Stuffer House. It did not occur
to me that Stuffer was the name of the proprietor. How odd!"

But conversation did not flow freely, for the tension of the occasion
had been too tightly wound by the impulsive guardian of the family's
honor. It was well that Katie was present to check his temper, through
pride, or the poor women might have been scolded again for their