should have bethought themselves of a gentleman whose attractions had been thus vividly depicted; all the more so that he lived in the Fifth Avenue, and that the Fifth Avenue, as they had ascertained the night before, was contiguous to their hotel. "Ten to one he'll be out of town," said Percy Beaumont; "but we can at least find out where he has gone, and we can immediately start in pursuit. He can't possibly have gone to a hotter place, you know."
"Oh, there's only one hotter place," said Lord Lambeth, "and I hope he hasn't gone there."
They strolled along the shady side of the street to the number indicated upon the precious letter. The house presented an imposing chocolate-colored expanse, relieved by facings and window cornices of florid sculpture, and by a couple of dusty rose-trees which clambered over the balconies and the portico. This last-mentioned feature was approached by a monumental flight of steps.
"Rather better than a London house," said Lord Lambeth, looking down from this altitude, after they had rung the bell.
"It depends upon what London house you mean," replied his companion. "You have a tremendous chance to get wet between the house door and your carriage."
"Well," said Lord Lambeth, glancing at the
