"This is the place," and offering at the same time his hand.

As Mrs. Lane descended to the street, she glanced with a look of
anxious inquiry around her. Already a suspicion that all might not
be right was disturbing her mind. Two years before she had been in
Philadelphia, and had stayed several days at the United States
Hotel. She remembered the appearance of the building and the street,
but now she did not recognise a single object. All was strange.

"Is this the United States Hotel?" she asked eagerly.

"Oh, yes, ma'am," was the smiling reply. "We are at the private
entrance."

Her bewildered mind was momentarily deceived by this answer, and she
permitted herself to be led into a house, which she soon discovered
not to be an hotel. The most dreadful suspicions instantly seized
her. So soon as she was shown into. a parlour, the man retired. A
woman came in shortly afterwards, who, from her appearance, seemed
to be the mistress of the house. She spoke kindly to Mrs. Lane, and
asked if she would walk up into her room.

"There has been some mistake," said the poor wanderer, her lips
quivering in spite of her efforts to assume a firm exterior.

"Oh, no, none at all," quickly replied the woman, smiling.

"Yes, yes there is. I am not in the hotel where I wished to go. Why
have I been brought here? Where is the man with whom I came?"