Old Aaron Rockharrt's hot haste did not avail them much. The boat remained at the wharf for ten minutes, during which the Iron King secretly fumed and fretted. "Does this boat connect with the 10:50 train for New York?" he inquired. "Yes, sir," was the answer. "Then you will miss it." "Oh, no, sir." The five remaining minutes seemed hours, but they passed at length and the boat left the shore, and old Aaron Rockharrt walked up and down the deck impatiently. As they neared the other side the whistle of a down train was heard approaching. "There! I said you would miss it!" exclaimed the Iron King. "That train does not stop here, sir," was the good humored answer. The boat touched the wharf at Garrison's, and the passengers got off. Old Aaron Rockharrt led his granddaughter up to the platform to wait for the train; but no train was in sight or hearing. Mr. Rockharrt looked at his watch. "After all, we have seven minutes to wait," he growled, as if time and tide were much in fault at not being at his beck and call. "Had we not better go into the waiting room?" suggested Cora. "No, we will stand here," replied the Iron King, who on general principles never acted upon a suggestion. So there they stood--the old man growling at intervals as he looked up the road; Cora gazing out upon the fine scenery of river and mountain. Presently the whirr of the coming train was heard. In a minute more it rushed into the station and stopped. There were no other down passengers except Mr. Rockharrt and Mrs. Rothsay. He handed her up, and took her to a seat. The car was not half full. The tide of travel was northward, not southward at this season. They were scarcely seated when the train started again. They reached New York just before noon. "Carriage, sir? Carriage, ma'am? Carriage? Carriage? Carriage?" screamed a score of hackmen's voices, as the passengers came out on the sidewalk. Mr. Rockharrt beckoned the best-looking turnout and handed his granddaughter into it. "Drive to St. L----'s Hospital," he said. The hackman touched his hat and drove off. In less than fifteen minutes he drew up before the front of St. L----'s. The hackman jumped down, went up and rang the bell. Then he came back to the carriage and opened the door. Mr. Rockharrt got out, followed by his granddaughter. "Wait here!" he said to the hackman, as he went to the door, which was promptly opened by an attendant. "I wish to see the physician in charge here, or the head of the hospital, or whatever may be his official title," said the Iron King. "You mean the Rev. Dr. ----" "Yes, yes; take him my card." "Walk in the parlor, sir." The attendant conducted the party into a spacious, plainly furnished reception or waiting room, saw them seated, and then took away Mr. Rockharrt's card. A few minutes passed, and a tall, white haired, venerable form, clothed in a long black coat and a round skull cap, entered the room, looking from side to side for his visitor.