of that first visit, months before. Now, to eyes fresh from
the crisp immaculateness of Paris and Berlin, Fifth avenue
looked almost grimy, and certainly shabby in spots.

Ella Monahan, cheerful, congratulatory, beaming, met her at
the pier, and Fanny was startled at her own sensation of
happiness as she saw that pink, good-natured face looking up
at her from the crowd below. The month that had gone
by since last she saw Ella standing just so, seemed to slip
away and fade into nothingness.

"I waited over a day," said Ella, "just to see you. My, you
look grand! I know where you got that hat. Galeries
Lafayette. How much?"

"I don't expect you to believe it. Thirty-five francs.
Seven dollars. I couldn't get it for twenty-five here."

They were soon clear of the customs. Ella had engaged a
room for her at the hotel they always used. As they rode
uptown together, happily, Ella opened her bag and laid a
little packet of telegrams and letters in Fanny's lap.

"I guess Fenger's pleased, all right, if telegrams mean
anything. Not that I know they're from him. But he said--"

But Fanny was looking up from one of them with a startled
expression.
"He's here. Fenger's here."