message was much more condensed than that, but Nyoda got it all in.

Then there was nothing else for us to do but make the best of a bad
bargain and hunt up the one hotel in S---- and prepare to spend the
night. But when we got there it was crowded. There was a big wedding in
town that night, we were informed, and the out-of-town guests had
filled the hotel. They were already two in a room and there was no hope
of doubling up. Seeing our dismay at this news, the clerk bethought
himself of a woman in the village who had a very large house and often
let rooms to tourists when the hotel was full. She had once been very
wealthy, but had lost everything but the house and now made her living
by keeping boarders.

We thanked him and hurried off to the address to which he had directed
us. We were very hot and tired and dusty and amazingly hungry. It was
already six o'clock in the evening, and with the difference in time
between our city and this we had been on the road a long day. We were
glad after all that the hotel had not been able to accommodate us when
we saw this house. The hotel was on the main street and the rooms must
have been small and stuffy; anything but comfortable on this hot night.
But this house stood far back from the street in an immense shady yard,
one of those enormous brick houses that well-to-do people were fond of
building about thirty-five years ago, with large rooms and high
ceilings and enough space inside them to quarter a regiment. We blessed
the good fortune which had led our feet to this hospitable looking
door, which, in times gone by, must have opened to admit throngs of
distinguished people.

There was no door-bell, but a big bronze knocker, and in answer to it a
young girl, presumably the "hired girl", let us into the hall. She took