In a minute Barlow himself appeared at the head of the steps with the
ladies' remaining wraps, and confirmed their report in person. "I tell
you," he said, wiping his forehead, "it's a ripper."

"It must be an awful day in town," said one of the ladies, fanning
herself with a newspaper.

"Is that to-day's Advertiser, Mrs. Alger?" asked another.

"Oh, dear, no! yesterday's. We sha'n't have today's till this afternoon.
It shows what a new arrival you are, Mrs. Scott--your asking."

"To be sure. But it's such a comfort being where you can see the
Advertiser the same morning. I always look at the Weather Report the
first thing. I like to know what the weather is going to be."

"You can't at Jocelyn's. You can only know what it's been."

"Well," Barlow interposed, jealous for Jocelyn's, "you can most al'ays
tell by the look o' things."

"Yes," said one of the ladies; "but I'd rather trust the Weather Report.
It's wonderful how it comes true. I don't think there 's anything that
you miss more in Europe than our American Weather Report."

"I'm sure you miss the oysters," said another.

"Yes," the first admitted, "you do miss the oysters. It was the last of
the R months when we landed in New York; and do you know what we did the