It was almost the bright-faced Rob whom her father had known that drew her breath long and hard after the tedious tunnel was passed, and began setting herself right and pulling herself together as irregular and ugly buildings slipped by her in crowds, and the train entered the Grand Central Station. She took her place in the line, edging her suit-case--hastily borrowed from the Rutherfords late the preceding night--between the wedged passengers, and crawled along toward the door, too confused to feel much beyond a strong wish that the person in front of her was shorter and leaned back less, since he entirely prevented her hat from keeping straight. Out on the platform Rob still held her place in the crowd, and found herself at last standing bewildered near the Forty-second Street exits, wondering what she was to do next, and which way to turn to do it. People jostled her without her knowing it, until a vicious shove of her case, and a muttered remark that reminded her of Farmer Flinders's addresses to his horse, aroused Rob to the fact that she was, in her small degree, impeding the course of progress, and she stepped out on the sidewalk and into the babel of "Cayb? Want a cayb, miss?" while the cab-drivers threatened her face with their whips. Rob espied a tall policeman and steered her course for him through the maddening bedlam around her. "Please tell me how to go to Broadway?" she said, looking up appealingly under her over-shadowing hat. "Straight along that way--you can't miss it," said the policeman. "No, wait a bit. What part of Broadway do ye be wantin'?" "It's near Liberty Street, if you know where that is," said Rob. "Oh, well, that's different. Stand one side here a minute an' I'll tell ye. Ye don't know N'Yawk?" asked the policeman, taking kindly interest in Rob's case. She shook her head, and the mammoth guardian of the peace considered, at the same time raising his hand warningly to two encroaching truckmen, and giving the time of day to a frantic woman who carried a bird-cage in her hand and a spaniel under her arm. "You might take the T'ird Avner L, but ye'd niver find your way over, I'm thinkin'--get out at Fulton Street--no, 'twouldn't do!" the policeman meditated aloud. "An' takin' these Fourt' Avner trolleys is as bad. Ye take this crosstown, and get out at Broadway--tell the conducther to let ye out on the downtown side. There ye'll take a downtown Broadway car--see? Ask, if ye're not sure--an' keep on it till ye get to your number. You can't miss it thin. Not at all, miss; it's wan of our juties to help people. Wait, till I put ye on the car--it's confusin' here, wid the subway an' all. Good luck to ye, miss."