it was number 65 North Vine Street he had meant.

We got dressed faster than we ever had before in our lives and packed
up our scattered belongings, leaving the rooms nearly as tidy as they
were when we came in. Mrs. McAlpine had withdrawn into the next room,
and through the closed door we could hear the sound of excited talking
and knew that she was telling the story to someone. When she had
finished we heard a man's voice raised in a regular bellow. Evidently
it had struck him as funny.

"No!" we heard him chortle. "You don't mean it! Got put into the bridal
chamber, ha, ha! When you wouldn't let me put a foot into it! Took a
bath and used up all the wedding towels that you wouldn't even let me
touch! Oh, ha! ha! ha!" The very house seemed to shake with the
violence of his mirth. Senator McAlpine, for we judged it was he, must
have had a sense of humor. "Where are they?" we heard him shout. "Let
me see them!"

But at the thought of facing that battery of laughter we fled in haste.
Feeling unutterably small and ridiculous, we crept down-stairs and out
of the front door, past numbers of people who were arriving. Once out
on the sidewalk we leaned against the ornamental iron fence and laughed
until we cried. The more we thought about it the funnier it seemed.
What a tale we would have to tell the other girls when we met them in
the morning!

As we had had our bath there only remained supper, and we certainly did
justice to it when we finally arrived at Mrs. Butler's house on North
Vine Street. It was after eight o'clock and we were ravenous. The rooms
we had in that house, while they were nothing compared to what we