“Then you will go with us, Harry,” said Maud, “won’t you?”
“I shall be very glad to do so,” said Harry. “You are very kind to me, Miss Lindsay.”
“Miss Lindsay!” repeated the young lady, impatiently. “What makes you call me that?”
“Isn’t it your name?” asked Harry, smiling.
“No, it isn’t. At any rate you are not to call me so. Call me Maud.”
“Well, Maud, I will, if you want me to.”
“Certainly I do. I wish we could go on shore; I am tired of staying here.”
They had not long to stop, however. They were soon on the pier, where a number of carriages were waiting to convey passengers to the various hotels. Mr. Lindsay had previously inquired which was the best hotel in the city, and gave directions to the driver to convey him thither. As I do not wish to discriminate in favor of any particular hotel, I shall call it by an assumed name, “The Tasmania Hotel.”
It had a handsome appearance, being located on Collins Street, which is the principal business street in Melbourne. This street is about one third wider than Broadway, and had, even in the days of which I am writing, many handsome shops and imposing buildings.
“I didn’t know Melbourne was such a nice place,” said Maud, looking about with satisfaction. “Why, they’ve got as nice shops here as they have in London.”