can't
take the subway, I wish we could--you wait until you see the expresses!
But I'll tell you what we'll do, we'll go over and take a 'bus, on the
Avenue--see, here's a Childs'--see, there's the new Library! Climb
right up on the 'bus, if you get a chance, because then we can see the
Park!"

Bewildered, dirty, tired, she stumbled along at his side, her eyes
moving rapidly over the strange crowds, the strange buildings, the
strange streets and crossings. That must be an elevated train banging
along; here was a park, with men packed on the benches, and newspapers
blowing lazily on the paths. And shops in all the basements--why had no
one ever told her that there were shops in all the basements? And a
placid church facade breaking this array of trimmed windows and crowded
little enterprises! It was hot: she felt her forehead wet, her clothes
seemed heavy and sticky, and her head ached dully.

"How'd you like it?" Wallace asked enthusiastically.

"I love it, sweetheart!"

Wallace, frankly embarrassed for money, took her at once to Mrs.
Curley's big boarding-house in East Seventieth Street, where the
Cluetts had stayed.

Mabel had told Martie that "Grandma Curley" was a "character." She was
a plain, shrewd, kindly old woman, who lived in an old brownstone house
that had been acquired after his death, Martie learned, for a bad debt
of her husband's making. She liked everybody and believed in nobody;
smiling a deep, mysterious smile when her table or her management was
praised. She eyed Martie's fresh beauty appraisingly, immediately
suspected her condition, was given the young wife's unreserved
confidence, and, with a few brief pieces of advice, left her new
boarders entirely to their own devices. Wallace's daring compliments
fell upon unhearing ears; she would not lower her prices for anybody,
she said. They could have the big room for eighteen, or the little one
for fourteen dollars a week.

"Sixteen for the big one! You know you like our looks," said Wallace.

"I'd be losing money on it, Mr. Bannister. You can take it or leave it,
just as you like."

He was a little daunted by her firmness, but in the end he told Martie
that eighteen was cheap enough, and as she scattered her belongings
about, his wife gave a happy assent. It was fun to be married and be
boarding in New York.

She was too confused, too excited, to eat her dinner. They were both in
wild spirits; and went out after dinner to take an experiment