a trunk and,
foolishly, I exclaimed upon their prettiness. She looked upon them, and
then at me, with a rather pitiful air.

"I can't wear them now," she said, her lip quivering a little. "But this
black one might do, if----"

This halting was not in her speech and merely represents my own
limitations. She explained some of the legerdemain required by the
garment, and Frieda told her of a woman, related to Eulalie, who was
talented in juggling with old dresses and renovating them. This one
looked exceedingly nice to me, just as it was, but I was pityingly
informed that some things were to be added and others removed, before it
could possibly be worn. The sleeves, as far as I could understand, were
either too long or short; the shoulders positively superannuated and the
skirt, as was evident to the meanest intellect, much too narrow, or,
possibly, too wide.

Also, there was the absolute need of a new hat. They discussed the
matter, and Frieda led her away to unexplored streets adjoining the East
River. With great caution I warned the young woman, secretly directing
her attention to Frieda's impossible headgear, but I received a
confident and reassuring glance. After a time they returned with an
ample hat-box adorned with one of the prominent names of the Ghetto, and
pulled the thing out, having come to my room to exhibit to me the result
of their excursion.

"How much do you think we paid for it?" asked Frieda, with a gleam of
triumph.

"I can speak more judiciously, if Mrs. Dupont will be so kind as to put
it on," I told her.

My request was immediately acceded to. I surveyed the hat from many
angles and guessed that it had cost eighteen dollars. I was proudly
informed that the price had been three twenty-seven, reduced from eight
seventy-nine, and that they had entered every shop in Division Street
before they had unearthed it.

"It is very nice and quiet," Frieda informed me. "There wasn't much
choice of color, since it had to be black. I think it suits her
remarkably well."

"It certainly does," I assented. "Oh, by the way, Frieda, you may be
glad to hear that my publishers have accepted the 'Land o' Love' and are
to bring it out very early next Spring. It is a very long time to wait.
I am afraid that Jamieson, their Chief High Lord Executioner, is rather
doubtful in regard to it. He's afraid it is somewhat of a risky
departure from my usual manner and may disappoint my following, such as
it is."

"Poo