On his way back from Cleveland, Scott, having the necessary leisure, stopped a couple of days at Niagara Falls. He registered his name at the Clifton House, on the Canada side.

He lost no time in visiting the objects of interest connected with the falls, and at the close of the first day sat on the piazza, with the falls in sight.

A blond-bearded young man of perhaps twenty-five, evidently an Englishman, sat near by. He looked at Scott once or twice, as if tempted to speak, but a certain reticence characteristic of his countrymen appeared to prevent.

Scott observed this, and made a remark by way of opening a conversation.

"Yes," answered the young man, "you are right. The falls are grand. You Americans ought to be very proud of them."

"But," said Scott, smiling, "I am not an American."

The Englishman looked surprised, for Scott,[Pg 211] though he had only been in America a year, had come to resemble the people among whom he had cast his lot.

"What, then, are you?" inquired his new acquaintance, looking puzzled.

"I was born in England."

"Indeed!" said the other. "Then we are countrymen."

"I am glad to know it," said Scott, courteously.

"How long have you been in America, if I may ask?"

"A little more than a year."

"And do you live in Canada?"

"No, I live in New York."

"You are not—in business?" queried the Englishman, noticing his youthful appearance.

"Oh, yes, I am employed by a New York firm."

"But how do you happen—excuse my asking—to be here? But perhaps it is your vacation."

"No, I am traveling for the firm. I am a traveling salesman for the house of Tower, Douglas & Co."

"That is a large firm, I have heard."

"One of the largest in New York."

"I confess I am puzzled. You occupy such a responsible position, and yet you are so young."

[Pg 212]

"I believe my case is exceptional. I am the youngest traveler for our house."

"I rejoice in your success, since you are an English boy. May I ask your name?"

Scott handed his new acquaintance a card like this:

SCOTT WALTON

Representing

Tower, Douglas & Co.

NEW YORK.

"Thank you," said the other.

He took from his pocket a card, from which Scott learned that he was Lord Cecil Grant, Earl of Windermere.

"I am honored in making your acquaintance," said Scott. "May I say that you seem young to be an earl? I fancied all earls were at least fifty years of age."

"I wish that I had waited till fifty for my title," said the young Englishman, gravely; "but my poor father died suddenly, six months ago, and partly to dissipate my grief I came to America."

"Have you been here long, my lord?" asked Scott, not knowing exactly how to address his distinguished companion.

"Never mind the title," said the earl, smiling.

[Pg 213]

"It comes awkwardly to an American to use it, and you are already half an American."

"What shall I call you, then?"

"You may call me Mr. Grant, if you like. If you come to know me better, you may call me Cecil. I shall take the liberty, since you are a boy, to call you Scott."

As he spoke there was a winning smile upon his face, and Scott felt that he should like him.

"I will try to forget that you are an earl," he said, "and then I shall feel more at home with you."

"What do you say to a walk, Scott? The evening is too fine to spend here."

"I shall be delighted."

He put on his hat, and the two sauntered off together. They were both good walkers, and had covered several miles before they returned to the hotel.

"I wish I had met you before, Scott," said the earl, familiarly. "Won\'t you tell me something about yourself, and your history? I am sure you have one."

Almost before he knew it, Scott had told the story already familiar to the reader. The earl listened with evident interest.

[Pg 214]

"Really," he said, "it is worthy of telling in book form. That uncle of yours——"

"My mother\'s cousin," corrected Scott.

"No matter. We will say relative. He must certainly be a mean, disagreeable fellow, don\'t you know, and as to your cousin with the peculiar name——"

"Loammi."
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