Hidden somewhere amidst those bristling miles of masonry to the northward of the towers was her future home.  Her mind dwelt upon it now, for the first time, and tried to construct it.  Once she had spoken to Howard of it, but he had smiled and avoided discussion.  What would it be like to have a house of one’s own in New York?  A house on Fifth Avenue, as her girl friends had said when they laughingly congratulated her and begged her to remember that they came occasionally to New York.  Those of us who, like Honora, believe in Providence, do not trouble ourselves with mere matters of dollars and cents.  This morning, however, the huge material towers which she gazed upon seemed stronger than Providence, and she thought of her husband.  Was his fibre sufficiently tough to become eventually the captain of one of those fortresses, to compete with the Maitlands and the Wings, and others she knew by name, calmly and efficiently intrenched there?

The boat was approaching the slip, and he came out to her from the cabin, where he had been industriously reading the stock reports, his newspapers thrust into his overcoat pocket.

“There’s no place like New York, after all,” he declared, and added, “when the market’s up.  We’ll go to a hotel for breakfast.”

For some reason she found it difficult to ask the question on her lips.

“I suppose,” she said hesitatingly, “I suppose we couldn’t go—­home, Howard.  You—­you have never told me where we are to live.”

As before, the reference to their home seemed to cause him amusement.  He became very mysterious.

“Couldn’t you pass away a few hours shopping this morning, my dear?”

“Oh, yes,” replied Honora.

“While I gather in a few dollars,” he continued.  “I’ll meet you at lunch, and then we’ll go-home.”

As the sun mounted higher, her spirits rose with it.  New York, or that strip of it which is known to the more fortunate of human beings, is a place to raise one’s spirits on a sparkling day in early winter.  And Honora, as she drove in a hansom from shop to shop, felt a new sense of elation and independence.  She was at one, now, with the prosperity that surrounded her:  her purse no longer limited, her whims existing only to be gratified.  Her reflections on this recently attained state alternated with alluring conjectures on the place of abode of which Howard had made such a mystery.  Where was it?  And why had he insisted, before showing it to her, upon waiting until afternoon?

Newly arrayed in the most becoming of grey furs, she met him at that hitherto fabled restaurant which in future days—­she reflected—­was to become so familiar—­Delmonico’s.  Howard was awaiting her in the vestibule; and it was not without a little quiver of timidity and excitement and a consequent rise of colour that she followed the waiter to a table by the window.  She felt as though the assembled fashionable world was staring at her, but presently gathered courage enough to gaze at the costumes of the women and the faces of the men.  Howard, with a sang froid of which she felt a little proud, ordered a meal for which he eventually paid a fraction over eight dollars.  What would Aunt Mary have said to such extravagance?  He produced a large bunch of violets.