Halting before the door of the front room on the second floor, the lad
gave a thundering rap, then opened it, shouting, "Here's a old lady to see
ye, Mrs. Novel; if that's yer name."

"What do you mean by rushing in on me in this rude way, you young rascal?"
demanded a shrill female voice, which Mrs. Conly instantly recognized as
that of her daughter. "Begone instantly! begone, I say!"

"Go, go!" Mrs. Conly said to the boy, in half smothered tones, putting a
small coin into his hand; then staggering into the room she dropped into a
chair, gasping for breath.

"Virginia, Virginia! can it be possible that I find you in such a place
as this?" she cried, as the latter started up from a lounge on which she
had been lying with a paper-covered novel in her hand.

Her hair was in crimping-pins, her dress most slatternly, and her
surroundings were in keeping with her personal appearance.

"Mamma!" she exclaimed in utter astonishment and confusion. "How did you
get here? how did you come? You should have sent me word. I have no way to
accommodate you."

"Don't be alarmed, I have no intention of staying more than an hour. I
start for Europe by to-day's steamer, with Elsie and Edward Travilla.
Lester Leland's ill, dying I presume, and the silly love-sick girl must
needs rush to the rescue."

"And why are you to go with her? why don't the mother and grandfather and