Every night and every morning she said "Our Father" twice, once for
herself and once for the friend who had gone out into the world, it seemed
about a hundred years ago.

But one day she came across a railroad track. It made her heart beat
wildly. It seemed now that she must be almost there. Railroads were things
belonging to the East and civilization. But the way was lonely still for
days, and then she crossed more railroads, becoming more and more
frequent, and came into the line of towns that stretched along beside the
snake-like tracks.

She fell into the habit of staying overnight in a town, and then riding on
to the next in the morning; but now her clothes were becoming so dirty and
ragged that she felt ashamed to go to nice-looking places lest they should
turn her out; so she sought shelter in barns and small, mean houses. But
the people in these houses were distressingly dirty, and she found no
place to wash.

She had lost track of the weeks or the months when she reached her first
great city, the only one she had come near in her uncharted wanderings.

Into the outskirts of Chicago she rode undaunted, her head erect, with the
carriage of a queen. She had passed Indians and cowboys in her journeying;
why should she mind Chicago? Miles and miles of houses and people. There
seemed to be no end to it. Nothing but houses everywhere and
hurried-looking people, many of them working hard. Surely this must be
Philadelphia.

A large, beautiful building attracted her attention. There were handsome