He was gone so long that she was nearly fainting from fright before she spied his dear form coming toward her. His thin, plain face looked wonderfully beautiful to her, and she almost hugged him right before all those people. "Well, I've got a hotel all right; but I hain't been here for so long I've kinder forgot about the streets, so the man said we'd better have a team to take us there." And he picked up the bags and trudged off, closely followed by Emily. His shrewd Yankee wit carried him safely through a bargain with the driver, and they were soon jolting and rumbling along to their destination. He had asked the man behind the news-stand about a hotel, casually mentioning that he had money--plenty of it--and wanted a "bang-up good place." The spirit of mischief had entered the heart of the news-man, and he had given Reuben the name of one of the very highest-priced, most luxurious hotels in the city. As the carriage stopped, Reuben marched boldly up the broad steps and entered the palatial office, with Emily close at his heels. Two bell-boys sprang forward--the one to take the bags, the other to offer to show Mrs. Gray to the reception-room. "No, thank you, I ain't particular," said she sweetly; "I'll wait for Reuben here." And she dropped into the nearest chair, while her husband advanced toward the desk. She noticed that men were looking curiously at her, and she felt relieved when Reuben and the pretty boy came back and said they would go up to their room. She stood the elevator pretty well, though she gave a little gasp (which she tried to choke into a cough) as it started. Reuben turned to the boy. "Where can I get somethin' to eat?" "Luncheon is being served in the main dining-room on the first floor, sir." Visions of a lunch as he knew it in Emily's pantry came to him, and he looked a little dubious. "Well, I'm pretty hungry; but if that's all I can get I suppose it will have to do." Ten minutes later an officious head waiter, whom Emily looked upon with timid awe, was seating them in a superbly appointed dining-room. Reuben looked at the menu doubtfully, while an attentive, soft-voiced man at his elbow bent low to catch his order. Few of the strange-looking words conveyed any sort of meaning to the poor hungry man. At length spying "chicken" halfway down the card, he pointed to it in relief. "I guess I'll take some of that," he said, briefly; then he added, "I don't know how much it costs--you hain't got no price after it." The waiter comprehended at once. "The luncheon is served in courses, sir; you pay for the whole--whether you eat it or not," he added shrewdly. "If you will let me serve you according to my judgment, sir, I think I can please you." And there the forlorn little couple sat, amazed and hungry, through six courses, each one of which seemed to their uneducated palate one degree worse than the last.