Carrie looked at him in amazement, and then summoned sufficient thought to reply: “Why, I don’t know you,” backing away as she did so. “Oh, that don’t matter,” said the other affably. She bandied no more words with him, but hurried away, reaching her own door quite out of breath. There was something in the man’s look which frightened her. During the remainder of the week it was very much the same. One or two nights she found herself too tired to walk home, and expended car fare. She was not very strong, and sitting all day affected her back. She went to bed one night before Hanson. Transplantation is not always successful in the matter of flowers or maidens. It requires sometimes a richer soil, a better atmosphere to continue even a natural growth. It would have been better if her acclimatization had been more gradual—less rigid. She would have done better if she had not secured a position so quickly, and had seen more of the city which she constantly troubled to know about. On the first morning it rained she found that she had no umbrella. Minnie loaned her one of hers, which was worn and faded. There was the kind of vanity in Carrie that troubled at this. She went to one of the great department stores and bought herself one, using a dollar and a quarter of her small store to pay for it. “What did you do that for, Carrie?” asked Minnie when she saw it. “Oh, I need one,” said Carrie. “You foolish girl.” Carrie resented this, though she did not reply. She was not going to be a common shop-girl, she thought; they need not think it, either. On the first Saturday night Carrie paid her board, four dollars. Minnie had a quaver of conscience as she took it, but did not know how to explain to Hanson if she took less. That worthy gave up just four dollars less toward the household expenses with a smile of satisfaction. He contemplated increasing his Building and Loan payments. As for Carrie, she studied over the problem of finding clothes and amusement on fifty cents a week. She brooded over this until she was in a state of mental rebellion. “I’m going up the street for a walk,” she said after supper. “Not alone, are you?” asked Hanson. “Yes,” returned Carrie. “I wouldn’t,” said Minnie. “I want to see _something_,” said Carrie, and by the tone she put into the last word they realised for the first time she was not pleased with them. “What’s the matter with her?” asked Hanson, when she went into the front room to get her hat. “I don’t know,” said Minnie. “Well, she ought to know better than to want to go out alone.”