Gentlemen and ladies at the hotels, in London, generally dine about six or seven o'clock, each party or family by themselves, in their own private parlor. One evening, about eight o'clock, just after the waiter had removed the cloth from the table where Rollo's father and mother, with Rollo himself and his cousin Jennie, had been dining, and left the table clear, Mr. Holiday rose, and walked slowly and feebly-for he was quite out of health, though much better than he had been-towards a secretary which stood at the side of the room. "Now," said he, "we will get out the map and the railway guide, and see about the ways of getting to France."
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