“My!” exclaimed that worthy, as she bobbed up and down on the springy cushions; “to think it’s come at last! Why, I never expected to ride in one of these. I saved up once for a taxicab ride, but I had to use my savings for a case of grippe, so I never felt to try it again.”
“Did you have grippe?” said Patty, sympathetically; “that was too bad.”
“Well, no; it wasn’t my grippe. Leastways, I didn’t have it. It was a lady that lived in the same boardin’ house, along with me. But she’d had misfortune, and lost her money, so I couldn’t do no less than to help her. Poor thing! she was crossed in love and it made her queer. But that Rosy,—you know, that redhead boy, Miss Fairfield?”
“Yes, I do,” returned Patty, smiling.
“Well, he says she was queered in love, and it made her cross! She works in our place, you know. Well, cross she is; and, my land! if she wasn’t cross when she had the grippe! You know, it ain’t soothin’ on folks’ nerves.”
“No,” said Patty; “so I’ve understood. Well, Mrs. Greene, now you can see plenty of fashionable costumes. Do you enjoy it?”
“My! I’m just drinkin’ ’em in! Furs is worn a lot this year, ain’t they? Well, I don’t wonder. Why, I feel real regal in this fur of yours, Miss Galbraith. I don’t know when I’ve had such a pleasure as the wearin’ of this fur.”
“Now, we’ll go through the park and up Riverside Drive,” said Mona, as they neared Eighty-sixth Street. It was pleasant in the Park, and the fine motors, with their smartly-apparelled occupants, delighted Mrs. Greene’s very soul.
“Where would you like to go, Celeste?” asked Mona; “or do you like the Park and the River drive?”
“If I might, Miss Galbraith, I’d like to go to Grant’s Tomb. I’ve always wanted to go there, but I never can get a spare hour,—or if I do, I’m too tired for the trip.”