the porters who were handling the baggage. To Joe's inquiry he gave them
an address, and also proffered his advice as to the best way to reach
the place. He was exceedingly polite, and he looked hard at Kitty. They
found the house to which they had been directed, and were a good deal
surprised at its apparent grandeur. It was a four-storied brick dwelling
on Twenty-seventh Street. As they looked from the outside, they were
afraid that the price of staying in such a place would be too much for
their pockets. Inside, the sight of the hard, gaudily upholstered
instalment-plan furniture did not disillusion them, and they continued
to fear that they could never stop at this fine place. But they found
Mrs. Jones, the proprietress, both gracious and willing to come to terms
with them.

As Mrs. Hamilton--she began to be Mrs. Hamilton now, to the exclusion of
Fannie--would have described Mrs. Jones, she was a "big yellow woman."
She had a broad good-natured face and a tendency to run to bust.

"Yes," she said, "I think I could arrange to take you. I could let you
have two rooms, and you could use my kitchen until you decided whether
you wanted to take a flat or not. I has the whole house myself, and I
keeps roomers. But latah on I could fix things so 's you could have the
whole third floor ef you wanted to. Most o' my gent'men 's railroad
gent'men, they is. I guess it must 'a' been Mr. Thomas that sent you up
here."

"He was a little bright man down at de deepo."

"Yes, that 's him. That 's Mr. Thomas. He 's always lookin' out to send
some one here, because he 's been here three years hisself an' he kin
recommend my house."