life that she had ever tried to hide her real
emotions from her father.

"Leave our address for Herr Vanderlyn?" said Kreutzer, who had been
waiting for the question and had schooled himself to answer it without
revealing the real facts. "Of course. Of course. Why not?" It was the
first time he had ever actually lied to Anna. Things, thus, were in a
bad way at the start in the new quarters.

M'riar, after the first day there, did the marketing. The streets,
transformed into deep, narrow canons by the towering buildings
bordering them, swarming with the poor of every nationality on earth,
every block made into a most fascinating market by the push-cart
vendors with their varied wares, had, from the start, enthralled her.
She was uncannily acute at bargaining. Soon more than one red-headed
Jew had learned, in self-defense, to take out the stick which held up
one end of his cart, and move along, at sight of her. Too often she
had been the symbol of financial loss. Her "Hi sye!" and "My heye!"
became the keen delight of German maidens back of counters over which
cheap delicatessen was distributed.

Beyond a doubt M'riar was in her element. She labored day and night.
Few tasks there were about the tiny three-room menage, save the actual
cooking, which she did not undertake and undertake with energy which
made up, largely, for her lack of skill. Herr Kreutzer, who had been
in doubt about the wisdom of engrafting her upon his little family
looked at her with amazement, sometimes lowering his flute, on which
he might be practicing, in the very middle of a bar, so that he might
better stare at her unbounded and unceasing physical activities. She
abandoned, as unworthy of her mistress, her old form of address and no
longer simply called her "Miss," but "Frow-_line_," after tutelage
from the small shop-woman who sold cheese to her in three-cent
packages.

But, ere much time had passed, the day arrived when Herr Kreutzer
feared to have her even buy so much of luxury as cheese in three-cent
packages. The little bag of money which had chinked so bravely on his
hip when he had first arrived in New York city scarcely chinked at
all, these days. Everything was so expensive in this new land they had
come to! Not only must he pay as much rent for a three-room tenement,
with one room almost dark and one quite windowless, as he had had to
pay, in London, for the comfortable floor which they had occupied in
Soho, but food cost twice as