you will be expected at Newport. We have a house there;
half the people in New York go there for the summer.
I am not sure that at this very moment my wife can take
you in; she has got a lot of people staying with her;
I don't know who they all are; only she may have no room.
But you can begin with the hotel, and meanwhile you can live
at my house. In that way--simply sleeping at the hotel--
you will find it tolerable. For the rest, you must make
yourself at home at my place. You mustn't be shy, you know;
if you are only here for a month that will be a great waste
of time. Mrs. Westgate won't neglect you, and you had better
not try to resist her. I know something about that.
I expect you'll find some pretty girls on the premises.
I shall write to my wife by this afternoon's mail,
and tomorrow morning she and Miss Alden will look out for you.
Just walk right in and make yourself comfortable.
Your steamer leaves from this part of the city, and I will
immediately send out and get you a cabin. Then, at half past
four o'clock, just call for me here, and I will go with you
and put you on board. It's a big boat; you might get lost.
A few days hence, at the end of the week, I will come down
to Newport and see how you are getting on."

The two young Englishmen inaugurated the policy of not resisting Mrs. Westgate
by submitting, with great docility and thankfulness, to her husband.
He was evidently a very good fellow, and he made an impression upon
his visitors; his hospitality seemed to recommend itself consciously--
with a friendly wink, as it were--as if it hinted, judicially, that you
could not possibly make a better bargain. Lord Lambeth and his cousin
left their entertainer to his labors and returned to their hotel,