him to be waitin' fer me, but he must have forgotten," Nancy
returned, brokenly.

"Yes, you must come, Mrs.--" Mr. Morris began, then hesitated.

"Mrs. McVeigh, from the Monk Road," his wife told him, with a happy
smile.

"The Monk Road, where is that, pray?" Mr. Morris asked, in puzzled
tones.

"D'ye not know that?" Nancy exclaimed, incredulously.

The man shook his head.

She considered awhile, then made a gesture of utter helplessness. She
knew no adequate description of the geographical position of her home.
It was just the Monk Road, running from an indefinite somewhere to an
equally mysterious ending, and anyone who did not know that was lacking
in their education. They threaded their way through the press of
people to the narrow street, and entered a cab. Then, while the
husband and wife talked in subdued tones, Nancy listened to the babel
of clanging gongs and footsteps of many people on the pavements over
which they were passing. She suddenly bethought herself of questioning
Mr. Morris as to his knowledge of her son Cornelius. His answer was as
perplexing as everything else she had encountered in that strange new
world. He had never heard of him. Fortunately she had a business card
of her son's firm, and after much cogitation Mr. Morris decided that he
could find the establishment in the morning.

Nancy secured a much-needed night's rest at the home of the Morris
family, and was up and had the kettle boiling on the range before the
appearance of the household.

"I'd no enjoy the day at all if I wasn't doin' somethin' o' the sort!
An' ye're tired," she responded to Mr. Morris' surprised ejaculation.
She had to curb her anxiety to be off until after the noon hour, and
then, with a promise to return, if her plans miscarried, she was
piloted aboard the Overhead by Mr. Morris.

"I'll drop you off in front of the block in which your son's offices
are situated," he informed her by the way. The run through the city
was perhaps a distance of four miles, and while Nancy gazed in
open-mouthed wonder, the little man pointed out to her the places of
note along the route.

"It's all just wonderful," was the text of her replies.

They drew up at a little station, and from it descended to the
pavement, and at a great door in a block that made her neck ache to see
its top, he left her, with a list of directions that only served to
shatter the remnant of location which her mind contained. She looked
uncer