lace, particularly a city of which she had heard so much
as Philadelphia. As far back as she could remember, she had never left
New York, except for a brief excursion to Hoboken; and one Fourth of
July was made memorable by a trip to Staten Island, under the
guardianship of Jack.

They entered a horse car just outside the depot, and rode probably a
mile.

"We get out here," said the nurse. "Take care, or you'll get run over.
Now turn down here."

They entered a narrow and dirty street, with unsightly houses on each
side.

"This ain't a very nice-looking street," said Ida.

"Why isn't it?" demanded her companion, roughly.

"Why, it's narrow, and the houses don't look nice."

"What do you think of that house there?" asked Mrs. Hardwick, pointing
to a dilapidated-looking structure on the right-hand side of the street.

"I shouldn't like to live there," answered Ida.

"You wouldn't, hey? You don't like it so well as the house you live in
in New York?"

"No, not half so well."

The nurse smiled.

"Wouldn't you like to go in, and look at the house?"

"Go in and look at the house?" repeated Ida. "Why should we?"

"You must know there are some poor families living there that I am
interested in," said Mrs. Hardwick, who appeared amused at something.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you that it is our duty to help the poor?"

"Oh, yes, but won't it be late before we get to the lady?"

"No, there's plenty of time. You needn't be afraid of that. There's a
poor man living in this house that I've made a good many clothes for,
first and last."

"He must be much obliged to you," said Ida.

"We're going up to see him now," said her companion. "Take care of that
hole in the stairs."

Somewhat to Ida's surprise, her guide, on reaching the first landing,
opened a door without the ceremony of knocking, and revealed a poor,
untidy room, in which a coarse, unshaven man was sitting, in his shirt
sleeves, smoking a pipe.

"Hello!" exclaimed this individual, jumping up. "So you've got along,
old woman! Is that the gal?"

Ida stared from one to the other in amazement.

CHAPTER XVI

UNEXPECTED QUARTERS

The appearance of the man whom Mrs. Hardwick addressed so familiarly was
more picturesque than pleasing, He had a large, broad face, which, not
having been shaved for a week, looked like a wilderness of stubble. His
nose indicated habitual indulgence in alcoholic beverages. His eyes were
bloodshot, and his skin