"Yes; if you will stop crying now. Perhaps if you keep on I may be tempted to join you," he added jestingly, "and how ashamed we would both feel."
That made Elsie laugh. Then he interested her in plans for purchasing gifts for the cousins they had just left, and for her "new mamma," when they should reach New York, and soon she was quite her usual sunny self.
Fortunately up to this time their little party had been the only occupants of the stage.
We have not space to speak further of their journey, which brought them finally to Philadelphia, Miss Rose Allison's home, and where the wedding was to take place.
On arriving in that city Mr. Dinsmore sent Elsie and her nurse to Mr. Allison's, while he, with his servant John, went to a hotel. He was to be married the next morning, and it was already late in the afternoon, so the separation would not be for long.
While taking his supper at the hotel table Mr. Dinsmore became the unconscious object of close scrutiny by a gentleman seated nearly opposite; a rather fine-looking man, tall, well-proportioned, with good features, an open, intelligent countenance, benevolent expression, clear blue eyes, light brown hair and beard.
"I can hardly be mistaken; it is no common face; but I will make certain," the stranger said to himself, as he rose and left the room at the conclusion of his meal.
He went to the hotel register and found Mr. Dinsmore's name among those entered that day. He saw it with a thrill of pleasure; and yet—"well, he could not know till he had tried to renew the acquaintance, whether to do so would be agreeable to the friend of his boyhood."
Mr. Dinsmore retired to his own apartment on leaving the table, and had scarcely done so when a servant handed in a card.
"Charles Landreth, M.D.," was the inscription it bore. Mr. Dinsmore read it at a glance. His first emotion was surprise, the next a mixture of feelings.