my aunt to convince them that she was not a myth, or at least of
the wrong sex for aunts. To have traveled so far in the desperate
hope of heading off Aunt Jane, only to be frustrated and to lose my
character besides! It would be a stroke too much from fate, I told
myself rebelliously, as I crossed the broad gallery and plunged
into the cool dimness of the lobby in the wake of the bellboys who,
discerning a helpless prey, had swooped en masse upon my bags.

"Miss Jane Harding?" repeated the clerk, and at the cool negation
of his tone my heart gave a sickening downward swoop. "Miss Jane
Harding and party have left the hotel!"

"For--for the island?" I gasped.

He raised his eyebrows. "Can't say, I'm sure." He gave me an
appraising stare. Perhaps the woe in my face touched him, for he
descended from the eminence of the hotel clerk where he dwelt apart
sufficiently to add, "Is it important that you should see her?"

"I am her niece. I have come all the way from San Francisco
expecting to join her here."

The clerk meditated, his shrewd eyes piercing the very secrets of
my soul.

"She knew nothing about it," I hastened to add. "I intended it for
a surprise."

This candor helped my cause. "Well," he said, "that explains her
not leaving any word. As you are her niece, I suppose it will do