up her bundle and waited quite calmly till Father came flying
frog-like through the mist.

They hadn't many minutes to wait for the New York train, but they were
anxious minutes. Lest Lulu or the lordly Harris Hartwig descend on them,
they nervously lurked in the dark doorway of the baggage-room. With no
overcoat, Father shivered--and hid the shiver.

The engine came, glaring in through the mist; the train seemed
impatient, enormous, dwarfing the small station. The prodigal parents
hastily tugged suit-case and bundle aboard. They found a seat together.
They fussily tucked away their luggage. He held her hand firmly,
concealing the two hands with a fold of her overcoat.... You have seen
old folk, quite simple and rustic old folk who are apparently unused to
travel, sit motionless for hour after hour of train-travel, and you have
fancied that they were unconscious of life, of speed, of wonder? So sat
Father and Mother, but they were gloriously conscious of each other,
and now and then, when he was sure that no one was looking, he
whispered: "Old honey, there's nothing holding us apart now no more.
We're partners again, and Lord! how we'll fight! I'll go in and I'll
take Pilkings's business clean away from him, I will! Old honey, we're
free again! And we're going to see--New York! Lord! I just can't believe
it!"

"Yes--why--why, it's our real honeymoon!"

Not till they had ridden for an hour did she demand, "Seth, what _are_
we going to do in New York?"

"Why, fiddle! I swear I don't know! But--we'll find something. I guess
if we can bamboozle a modern fash'nable daughter we won't be afraid of
just New York."

"No!"

Till four in the morning the Applebys sat unmoving, awake and happy.
When the train passed the row on row of apartment-houses that mean New
York no youngster first seeing the infinitely possible city, and the
future glory it must hold for him, was ever more excited than the
invading Innocents.

CHAPTER X

With twenty-seven dollars as capital, and a bundle of garments of rather
uncertain style as baggage, and the pawn-ticket for a rather good
suit-case as insurance, Mr. and Mrs. Seth Appleby established themselves
in a "furnished housekeeping room" on Avenue B, and prepared to
reconquer New York. It was youth's hopeful sally. They had everything to
gain. Yet they were irretrievably past sixty.

You may for many years have been a New-Yorker, yet not know Avenue B,
where Jewish apartment-hou