Street hawkers jingled toy harnesses, shouted the prices of bright truck for tree ornaments, and pushed through the crowd, offering holly and mistletoe. Circles formed around men exhibiting mechanical turtles or boxing monkeys. From a furry sledge above a shop door, Santa Claus bowed and gesticulated, shaking the lines above his prancing reindeer. I had never seen such a spectacle. "What a jam!" cried Helen, her cheeks flooded with colour. "Come, let's hurry!" Indeed, as we threaded our way in and out among the throng, her beauty made an instant impression. "There she goes!" "Where? Where? I don't see her." "There! The tall one, with the veil--walking with that jay!" Not only did I hear such comments; I felt them. Yet even here there were many who did not notice; and again I sensed that odd displeasure that people could pass without seeing my darling. It was a relief to leave the neighbourhood of Sixth Avenue and cross to the open space of Union Square. The east side of the little park was quiet. "All right?" I asked. "All right." Her breath came quickly as if she had been frightened. "But see," she said a moment later, "there comes Kitty trundling her bicycle down Madison Avenue. You'd better come in, and be on your best behaviour; yesterday Kitty thought we were quarrelling." "Sorry I'm wanted only to vindicate--is it your character or mine that would stand clearing? And will you tell me----" A little old Frenchman, with a wooden leg, who was singing the "Marseillaise" from door to door, approached, holding out his hat. "Merci, M'sieu', Madame," he said, carelessly pocketing a nickel; then, as he fairly caught sight of the face that Helen of old might have envied, he started back in amazement, slowly whispering:-- "Pardon! Mon dieu! Une Ange!" We left him muttering and staring after us. "I'll really have to get a thicker veil," said Helen hastily; "stuffy thing! I like to breathe and see. At first it was--oh, delightful to be looked at like that--or almost delightful; for if no had one noticed, how was I to be sure that--that New York was agreeing vit' me? But now they begin to----" "Then New York hasn't always agreed vit' you? Aren't you going to tell me----" "Oh, I've been well," she interrupted, "ever since I came. But here's Kitty. Any adventures, Goldilocks?" "A minute ago a tandem cuffed my back wheel," said Miss Reid, coming up. "My heart jumped into my mouth and--and I'm nibbling little scallops out of it right now." And then we trooped upstairs together. CHAPTER V. A HIGH-CLASS CONCERT. I stayed for supper, over which Kitty's big Angora cat presided; Kitty herself, her red curls in disorder, whimsical, shrewd, dipping from jest to earnest, teased Helen and waited on her, wholly affectionate and, I guessed, half afraid.