he hour designated for her meeting, when
she enveloped herself in her waterproof cloak, drew the hood over her
hat, and almost ran for several squares from Mrs. Brompton's, toward
a line of street cars which would convey her to the vicinity of the
park. She succeeded in meeting an upward-bound car, entered, and
breathed more freely.

It was quite crowded, and, forced to stand up, Regina steadied
herself by one of the leathern straps suspended from the roof. At her
side was an elderly gentleman with very white hair, eyebrows, and
moustache, who was muffled in a heavy overcoat, and leaned upon a
gold-headed cane. Soon after, another passenger pressed in, elbowed
his way forward, and, touching the old gentleman, exclaimed:

"Colonel Tichnor in America! And above all in a street car! When did
you arrive?"

"Last week. These cars are too democratic for men with gouty feet;
but I dislike to bring my horses out in such weather. Not more than a
dozen people have stood on my toes during the last fifteen minutes.
Ringold, how is Palma? Prosperous as ever?"

"If you had been at Mrs. Tarrant's last night, you would not need to
inquire. Positively we younger men have no showing when he deigns to
enter the beaux list. He is striding upward in his profession, and
you know there is no limit to his ambition. Hitherto he had
cautiously steered clear of politics, but it is rumoured that a
certain caucus will probably tender him the nomination for----"

Here a child close to Regina cried out so sharply that she could not
hear several sentences; and when quiet was restored, the young
gentleman was saying:

"Very true; there is no accounting for taste. It does appear queer
that after living a bachelor so long, he should at last surrender to
a widow. But, my dear sir, she is a perfect Circe,--and I suspect
those immense estates in Cuba and Jamaica are quite as potential with
Palma as her other undeniable charms. Last night, as he promenaded
with her, it was conceded that they were the handsomest couple in the
room; and Mrs. Grundy has patted them on the head, and bestowed the
approved,--'Heaven bless you, my children.' Palma is the proudest man
in----"

"Here is my street. Good-day, Ringold."

The elderly gentleman left the car, and after awhile the young man
also departed; but there seemed no diminution of the crowd, and as
the track was heavy with drifting snow the horses moved slowly. At
last they reached a point where the line