Mrs. Crawford stifled a whoop of surprise. “And you! Are you——?” “I am.” “Only think! And that was Douglas! Why, I thought he was a straight-haired, sleeky, canting snake of a man. And you too are not a bit like what I thought. You are quite a person, Mrs.—Mrs. Conolly.” “I have no right to bear that name any longer. Pray call me by my assumed name still, and keep my secret. I hope you do not believe all the newspapers said?” “No, of course not,” said Mrs. Crawford. “But whose fault was it?” “Mine. Altogether mine. I wish you would tell people that Mr. Conolly is blameless in the matter.” “He will take care of his own credit, never fear. I am sure you got some provocation: I know what men are. The General is not my first husband.” “No, I got no provocation. Mr. Conolly is not like other men. I got discontented because I had nothing to desire. And now, about the lodgings, Mrs. Crawford. Do not think I am changing the subject from reticence. It is the question of money that makes me anxious. All my resources would be swallowed up at the hotel in less than a week.” “Lodgings? You mean rooms, I guess. People here mostly go to boarding-houses. And as to the cheapness, you dont know what cheapness is. Cant you make some arrangement with your great relations in England? Have you no property of your own?” “I cannot tell whether my property remains my own or not. You must regard me as a poor woman. I am quite determined to have the lodgings; and I should like to arrange about them at once; for I am rather upset by something that happened this morning.” “Well, if you must, you must, I know a place that might suit you: I lived in it myself when I was not so well off as I am at present. It is a little down-town; but you will have to put up with that for the sake of economy.” Mrs. Crawford, who had read in the papers of her guest’s relationship to the Earl of Carbury, then sent for her carriage, and dressed herself handsomely. When they had gone some distance, they entered a wide street, crossed half way along by an avenue and an elevated railway. “What do you think of this neighborhood?” said Mrs. Crawford. “It is a fine, wide street,” replied Marian; “but it looks as if it needed to be swept and painted.” “The other end is quieter. I’m afraid you wont like living here.” Marian had hitherto thought of such streets as thoroughfares, not as places in which she could dwell. “Beggars cannot be choosers,” she said, with affected cheerfulness, looking anxiously ahead for the promised quiet part. “Boarding-houses are so much the rule here, that it is not easy to get rooms. You will find Mrs. Myers a good soul, and though the house is not much to look at, it is comfortable enough inside.”