for a pie-shop."

"Come on," said Marjorie, and away they went, through the turnstiles, and
out upon Fifth Avenue again.

Mr. Maynard hailed a motor-omnibus, and Marjorie carefully climbed the
spiral staircase at the back. Her father followed, and sitting up on top
of the 'bus, in the crisp, wintry air and bright sunshine, they went
whizzing down the avenue.

"Isn't it fun, Father!" said Marjorie, as she held tightly to his arm.

"Yes, and there's a fine view to-day." He pointed out many famous
buildings, and when they neared a large hotel, he said:

"We'll have to get out, Midge. I shall pine away with hunger before
another block."

"Out we go!" was the reply, and they clambered down the twisty stair.

"Is there anything that would tempt your appetite, Miss Maynard?" said
her father, as, seated at a small round table, he looked over the menu.

"No, thank you; I don't think I can eat a thing!" said Midge, dropping
her eyes, and trying to look fragile and delicate.

"No? But really, you must try to taste of something. Say, the left wing
of a butterfly, with hard sauce."

This made Marjorie laugh, and she said, "I couldn't eat it all, but I