subject of the country, its climate, and its institutions. Archie
belonged to the second class. He liked America and got on splendidly
with Americans from the start. He was a friendly soul, a mixer; and
in New York, that city of mixers, he found himself at home. The
atmosphere of good-fellowship and the open-hearted hospitality of
everybody he met appealed to him. There were moments when it seemed
to him as though New York had simply been waiting for him to arrive
before giving the word to let the revels commence.

Nothing, of course, in this world is perfect; and, rosy as were the
glasses through which Archie looked on his new surroundings, he had
to admit that there was one flaw, one fly in the ointment, one
individual caterpillar in the salad. Mr. Daniel Brewster, his
father-in-law, remained consistently unfriendly. Indeed, his manner
towards his new relative became daily more and more a manner which
would have caused gossip on the plantation if Simon Legree had
exhibited it in his relations with Uncle Tom. And this in spite of
the fact that Archie, as early as the third morning of his stay, had
gone to him and in the most frank and manly way had withdrawn his
criticism of the Hotel Cosmopolis, giving it as his considered
opinion that the Hotel Cosmopolis on closer inspection appeared to
be a good egg, one of the best and brightest, and a bit of all
right.

"A credit to you, old thing," said Archie cordially.

"Don't call me old thing!" growled Mr. Brewster.

"Eight-o, old companion!" said Archie amiably.