“I will see that she is not left alone; and, stay, there is a deck steward now, just off the boat. Hurry and speak to him. Say I sent you.” Louie needed no further bidding, but made her way on shore as quickly as she could for the crowd jostling each other, and each intent upon his or her own business. The deck steward had disappeared, and, turn which way she would, Louie could see no one on whom she dared call for help. The crowd was pushing her farther from the boat. Friends were greeting friends; there were calls for hands to help with the baggage, and to Louie it seemed as if pandemonium reigned, and she felt her strength giving way, when suddenly heaven opened before her as Fred Lansing put both his hands upon her shoulders, and said, not “Louie,” as Herbert had done, but “Miss Grey, you are here. What can I do for you?” She did not stop to ask why he was there, or how he knew she was there, but answered: “I am trying to find some one to help mother. She is sick on the boat.” He asked no more questions, but seemed to know exactly what to do. Passing his arm around Louie, who, he saw, was near fainting, he said: “Take me to your mother, and don’t be afraid. I will see to it.” Louie could never remember exactly what he did, or how it was done. She only knew that in a short time her mother was on shore, in a carriage nearly as luxurious and easy as their own had been. Then Mr. Lansing said to her: “Come with me, please, and show me your baggage.” She went with him and felt herself growing stronger as she saw how cool and masterful he was, and how every one listened to him. Returning with her to the carriage, he said: “Give me your keys, please. Those custom-house officers will ask for them. I will send you to the hotel, and join you there later.” He spoke a few words to the driver, touched his hat to the ladies, and walked rapidly back to where bags and boxes were being opened, and brandy and tobacco and dynamite looked for by the officers. Mrs. Grey was wholly bewildered and half unconscious when the carriage reached the hotel, from which a lackey came out, and was joined by one or two more when Louie gave the names, “Mrs. and Miss Grey.” The former was taken carefully into the house and up to the second floor to a large, airy room with which a smaller room communicated. A highly respectable-looking woman, who called herself Mrs. Brown, came in, and offered her services in getting Mrs. Grey into bed, where she dropped asleep at once. Turning to Louie, the woman said: “If Miss will allow me, I will suggest that she, too, go to bed in the next room. You look wholly, utterly exhausted. I will sit with your mother till the gentleman comes.”