k. Then Sophie Liebers came and they went into the Avenue for a
walk. They pushed their way through and with the throngs up into
Tompkins Square--the center of one of the several vast districts,
little known because little written about, that contain the real New
York and the real New Yorkers. In the Square several thousand young
people were promenading, many of the girls walking in pairs, almost all
the young men paired off, each with a young woman. It was warm, and
the stars beamed down upon the hearts of young lovers, blotting out for
them electric lights and surrounding crowds. It caused no comment
there for a young couple to walk hand in hand, looking each at the
other with the expression that makes commonplace eyes wonderful. And
when the sound of a kiss came from a somewhat secluded bench, the only
glances east in the direction whence it had come were glances of
approval or envy.

"There's Otto Heilig dogging us," said Hilda to Sophie, as they walked
up and down. "Do you wonder I hate him?" They talked in American, as
did all the young people, except with those of their elders who could
speak only German.

Sophie was silent. If Hilda had been noting her face she would have
seen a look of satisfaction.

"I can't bear him," went on Hilda. "No girl could. He's so stupid
and--and common!" Never before had she used that last word in such a
sense. Mr. Feuerstein had begun to educate her.

Sophie's unobserved look changed to resentment. "Of course he's not
equal to Mr. Feuerstein," she said. "But he's a very nice fellow--at
least for an ordinary girl." Sophie's father was an upholsterer, and
not a good one. He owned no tenements--was barely able to pay the rent
for a small corner of one. Thus her sole dower was her pretty face and
her cunning. She had an industrious, scheming, not overscrupulous
brain and--her hopes and plans. Nor had she time to waste. For she
was nearer twenty-three than twenty-two, at the outer edge of the
marriageable age of Avenue A, which believes in an early start at what
it regards as the main business of life--the family.

"You surely couldn't marry such a man as Otto!" said Hilda absently.
Her eyes were searching the crowd, near and far.

Sophie laughed. "Beggars can't be choosers," she answered. "I think
he's all right--as men go. It wouldn't do for me to expect too much."

Just then Hilda caught sight of Mr. Feuerstein--the godlike head, the
glorious hair, th