Betty felt herself lifted off her feet and with the crowd, pushed into a trolley. The seats were all taken by those who "knew how," but Betty took hold of a strap, and looked around for her companions. They were jammed in at the other end of the car, and though they waved to her, she suddenly felt strangely alone. For the first time, a feeling of homesickness crept over her. This great crowded city with human beings like flies, and big tall buildings towering over narrow streets--was this New York? For twenty minutes the car dragged, and every little while stopped to crowd more in, until everyone was pushing the next. The crowd took it all as though accustomed to it. Not a word or look of anger was given. Some of the passengers appeared to be pale and tired, but all were tolerant. Betty's mind traveled back to Ephraim's openness and ease, and then came back to present surroundings. She looked out to see the streets through which they passed. She only got a glimpse of the river, but it gave her a cool breath of air that was refreshing. Then came narrow business streets, with screeching elevated rail roads overhead. "Trains traveling through the air! How strangely awful!" thought Betty. But it was exciting, even though she hated it. At last the car turned into a quiet, residential street, and Betty breathed once more. When the car stopped and the whole missionary party alighted, Betty was again her calm composed self. "This is our Church, and next to it, is the Mission House," explained one of the Elders. Everyone looked at the beautiful white stone church with interest and admiration, and then at the large, red brick house beside it. "How homelike it is!" exclaimed Betty, feeling her depression leaving her. "Do we missionaries live there?" The Elder looked at her with pity. "Not much!" he said, laughing, "We're scattered all over--wherever we can get a room,--but we always like to come here and get warmed up, you know!" All the young people laughed. "Sister Emmit, don't think that missionaries have it easy," said one young, rosy-cheeked girl, who looked as though hardship would be fun for her. "I didn't mean it to be easy," returned Betty, flushing hotly, "I simply asked a question." At this time they had reached the door of the mission home, which was opened to receive them. There, in the doorway, stood a stout, portly looking man of about forty years. His round, candid face was full of good nature and hospitality. His keen, blue eyes scanned the party with interest. "Come right in," he said, heartily, "Guess you're all tired, eh? Well, you've come to a good resting place, and the dinner's about ready for all." Betty's heart went right out to this jovial Mission President, and she felt "cheered up," as she afterwards expressed it. The party found a warm welcome and a good dinner. The President's wife was no less hospitable than President Gladder himself, and everyone seemed merry and happy.