The young man hurried out to the elevator, and he and Henry made a quick
ascent to a private room. He gave the boy a round fee, and was left in
quiet to examine his property.

As he fumbled with the strings of the first box his heart beat wildly, and
he felt the blood mounting to his face. Was he about to solve the mystery
which had surrounded the girl in whom his interest had now grown so deep
that he could scarcely get her out of his mind for a few minutes at a
time?

But the box was empty, save for some crumpled white tissue-paper. He took
up the cover in perplexity and saw his own name written by himself. Then
he remembered. This was the box he had sent down to the club by the
cabman, to get it out of his way. He felt disappointed, and turned quickly
to the other box and cut the cord. This time he was rewarded by seeing the
great black hat, beautiful and unhurt in spite of its journey to Chicago.
The day was saved, and also the reputation of his mother's maid. But was
there no word from the beautiful stranger? He searched hurriedly through
the wrappings, pulled out the hat quite unceremoniously, and turned the
box upside down, but nothing else could he find. Then he went at the
suit-case. Yes, there was the rain-coat. He took it out triumphantly, for
now his mother could say nothing, and, moreover, was not his trust in the
fair stranger justified? He had done well to believe in her. He began to
take out the other garments, curious to see what had been there for her
use.

A long, golden brown hair nestling on the collar of the bathrobe gleamed
in a chance ray of sunlight. He looked at it reverently, and laid the
garment down carefully, that it might not be disturbed. As he lifted the