“Well, if you must, you must, I know a place that might suit you:  I lived in it myself when I was not so well off as I am at present.  It is a little down-town; but you will have to put up with that for the sake of economy.”

Mrs. Crawford, who had read in the papers of her guest’s relationship to the Earl of Carbury, then sent for her carriage, and dressed herself handsomely.  When they had gone some distance, they entered a wide street, crossed half way along by an avenue and an elevated railway.

“What do you think of this neighborhood?” said Mrs. Crawford.

“It is a fine, wide street,” replied Marian; “but it looks as if it needed to be swept and painted.”

“The other end is quieter.  I’m afraid you wont like living here.”

Marian had hitherto thought of such streets as thoroughfares, not as places in which she could dwell.  “Beggars cannot be choosers,” she said, with affected cheerfulness, looking anxiously ahead for the promised quiet part.

“Boarding-houses are so much the rule here, that it is not easy to get rooms.  You will find Mrs. Myers a good soul, and though the house is not much to look at, it is comfortable enough inside.”

The appearance of the street improved as they went on; and the house they stopped at, though the windows were dingy and the paint old, was better than Marian had hoped for a minute before.  She remained in the carriage whilst her companion conferred with the landlady within.  Twenty minutes passed before Mrs. Crawford reappeared, looking much perplexed.

“Mrs. Myers has a couple of rooms that would do you very well; only you would be on the same floor with a woman who is always drunk.  She has pawned a heap of clothes, and promises to leave every day; but Mrs. Myers hasnt got rid of her yet.  It’s very provoking.  She’s quiet, and doesnt trouble any one; but still, of course——­”

“She cannot interfere with me,” said Marian.  “If that is the only objection, let it pass.  I need have nothing to say to her.  If she is not violent nor noisy, her habits are her own affair.”

“Oh, she wont trouble you.  You can keep to yourself, English fashion.”

“Then let us agree at once.  I cannot face any more searching and bargaining.”

“Youre looking pale.  Are you sure you are not ill?”

“No.  It is nothing.  I am rather tired.”

They went in together; and Marian was introduced to Mrs. Myers, a nervous widow of fifty.  The rooms were small, and the furniture and carpets old and worn; but all was clean; and there was an open fireplace in the sitting-room.

“They will do very nicely, thank you,” said Marian.  “I will send for my luggage; and I think I will just telegraph my new address and a few words to a friend in London.”

“If you feel played out, I can see after your luggage,” said Mrs. Crawford.  “But I advise you to come back with me; have a good lunch at Delmonico’s; and send your cablegram yourself.”