This had long sleeves and a ruffle round the neck. The little girl was ever so much improved. And I think she would have felt comforted if she could have heard the rest of the talk between the two girls. "I do wonder if she belongs to the new people," said the girl who laughed. "They can't be much. They came from the country somewhere." "But they've bought all the way through to the other street. And ma said she meant to call on them. Some one told her they owned a big farm in Yonkers, and one of the young men is to be a doctor. Maybe the little girl doesn't really belong to them. I wish you hadn't spoken quite so loud. I'm sure she heard." "Oh, I don't care!" with an airy toss of the head. "Mother said the other day she shouldn't bother about new neighbors. Calling on them is out of style." Hanny looked out of the window a long while. Then she said gravely: "Margaret, are all those old Dutch people dead that were in the history? And where was their Bowery?" "It is the Bowery out here, but it has changed. That was a long, long time ago." "If I'd lived then no one would have laughed about my long frock. I almost wish I'd been a little girl then." "Perhaps there were other things to laugh about." "I don't mind the laughing _now_. But they must have had lovely gardens full of tulips and roses. There doesn't seem any room about for such things. And lanes, you know. Did the new people drive the Dutch away?" "The English came afterward. You will read all about it in history. And then came the war----" "That grandmother knows about? Margaret, I think New York is a great, strange, queer place. There are a good many queernesses, aren't there?" Margaret assented with a smile. "Oh, there's father in the wagon!" The little girl was all a tremor of gladness. He caught her eyes and beckoned, and she ran down. But she couldn't manage the night-latch, and so Margaret had to follow her. "Bundle up my little girl," he said. "I've got to drive up to Harlem and I'll take her along." Hanny almost danced for joy. Margaret found her red merino coat. The collar was trimmed with swan's down, and her red silk hood had an edge of the same. True, some ultra-fashionables had come out in spring attire, but it was rather cool so early in the season. Hanny looked very pretty in her winter hood. And as they drove down the street the same girls were standing on a stoop; one was evidently going away from her friend. The one who laughed lived there then. But neither of them would have guessed it was the "queer" girl, and they almost envied her. "I've never been down to this corner," said Hanny. "And the streets run together." "Yes, First Street ends and Houston goes on over to the East River."