"That's the one."

"And shall we come back to New York to-night?"

"No; it wouldn't leave us any time to stay."

"West Philadelphia!" announced the conductor.

"We have arrived," said the nurse. "Keep close to me. Perhaps you had better take hold of my hand."

As they were making their way slowly through the crowd, the young apple merchant came up with his basket on his arm.

"When are you going back, Ida?" he asked.

"Mrs. Hardwick says not till to-morrow."

"Come, Ida," said the nurse, sharply. "I can't have you stopping all day to talk. We must hurry along."

"Good-by, Charlie," said Ida. "If you see Jack, just tell him you saw me."

"Yes, I will," was the reply.

"I wonder who that woman is with Ida?" thought the boy. "I don't like her looks much. I wonder if she's any relation of Mr. Harding. She looks about as pleasant as Aunt Rachel."

The last-mentioned lady would hardly have felt flattered at the comparison.

Ida looked about her with curiosity. There was a novel sensation in being in a new place, particularly a city of which she had heard so much as Philadelphia. As far back as she could remember, she had never left New York, except for a brief excursion to Hoboken; and one Fourth of July was made memorable by a trip to Staten Island, under the guardianship of Jack.

They entered a horse car just outside the depot, and rode probably a mile.

"We get out here," said the nurse. "Take care, or you'll get run over.

Now turn down here."

They entered a narrow and dirty street, with unsightly houses on each side.

"This ain't a very nice-looking street," said Ida.

"Why isn't it?" demanded her companion, roughly.

"Why, it's narrow, and the houses don't look nice."

"What do you think of that house there?" asked Mrs. Hardwick, pointing to a dilapidated-looking structure on the right-hand side of the street.

"I shouldn't like to live there," answered Ida.

"You wouldn't, hey? You don't like it so well as the house you live in in New York?"

"No, not half so well."

The nurse smiled.

"Wouldn't you like to go in, and look at the house?"

"Go in and look at the house?" repeated Ida. "Why should we?"

"You must know there are some poor families living there that I am interested in," said Mrs. Hardwick, who appeared amused at something.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you that it is our duty to help the poor?"

"Oh, yes, but won't it be late before we get to the lady?"

"No, there's plenty of time. You needn't be afraid of that. There's a poor man living in this house that I've made a good many clothes for, first and last."

"He must be much obliged to you," said Ida.

"We're going up to see him now," said her companion. "Take care of that hole in the stairs."

Somewhat to Ida's surprise, her guide, on reaching the first landing, opened a door without the ceremony of knocking, and revealed a poor, untidy room, in which a coa.r.s.e, unshaven man was sitting, in his shirt sleeves, smoking a pipe.

"h.e.l.lo!" exclaimed this individual, jumping up. "So you've got along, old woman! Is that the gal?"

Ida stared from one to the other in amazement.

CHAPTER XVI

UNEXPECTED QUARTERS

The appearance of the man whom Mrs. Hardwick addressed so familiarly was more picturesque than pleasing, He had a large, broad face, which, not having been shaved for a week, looked like a wilderness of stubble. His nose indicated habitual indulgence in alcoholic beverages. His eyes were bloodshot, and his skin looked coa.r.s.e and blotched; his coat was thrown aside, displaying a shirt which bore evidence of having been useful in its day and generation. The same remark may apply to his nether integuments, which were ventilated at each knee, indicating a most praiseworthy regard to the laws of health.

Ida thought she had never seen so disgusting a man. She continued to gaze at him, half in astonishment, half in terror, till the object of her attention exclaimed:

"Well, little gal, what you're lookin' at? Hain't you never seen a gentleman before?"

Ida clung the closer to her companion, who, she was surprised to find, did not resent the man's familiarity.

"Well, d.i.c.k, how've you got along since I've been gone?" asked the nurse, to Ida's astonishment.

"Oh, so-so."

"Have you felt lonely any?"

"I've had good company."

"Who's been here?"

d.i.c.k pointed significantly to a jug.