“Come on, Jeanette; we’ll have to run!” cried Nancy, catching her by the hand.
With several stops to rest, in sheltered doorways, they at last reached the hotel. By this time a dense fog shut down. The street lights, which had been turned on, looked like ghostly globes; and cabs and people were dim shapes.
“Where is Martha?” asked Miss Ashton, when they entered their rooms.
“I’m really rather worried about her,” added Jeanette, after they had explained.
“She’ll find her way back all right,” maintained Nancy. They were all anxious, however, when half an hour passed, and still no Martha. Miss Ashton was about to go down to the office for advice, when the girl rushed in; and Nancy and Jeanette plied her with all kinds of questions.
“I was all right,” she gasped, “until that blamed fog came up.”
“Came down,” corrected Nancy.
“I wandered about trying to find my way, and getting more and more lost every minute. Finally I ran into a man in uniform, and asked him to set me on my way. I thought he looked a bit familiar; and who was he but the purser from our steamer. He’s awfully nice, and he came all the way to the hotel with me!”
“Martha! Martha! I’ll certainly have to chaperon you more carefully,” laughed Miss Ashton. “However, all’s well that ends well. Now hurry, and dress for dinner. We didn’t have much on the train this noon; and I, for one, am hungry.”
After dinner they wandered about the hotel for an hour, and then went to bed.