The young lady reverted to her paper again.
"'Esther Cole, three hundred sixty.' Three hundred fifty-eight, the last house is marked. I must inquire."
One of the hostlers came forward to the door of the stable.
"Do you want a carriage, lady?"
"I am looking for a number which ought to be here."
"Is it a tenement house you're after, ma'am?"
"Yes, and a family by the name of Cole."
"It's aloft their house is. Walk right through ma'am, to the ladder beyont."
"Thank you," replied Marion, giving him a smile which quite won him. "How very clear your floor is! I was never in a stable before. Look, Hepsey! See how nicely the carriages are covered; and really there is quite a pretty parlor,—and such a row of whips hanging up."
"That room is for ladies and gentlemen to wait while their horses are harnessed, ma'am." The hostler was doing the honors in his best style. They had now reached the ladder, as he called it by which they were to ascend to the room "aloft," and he said, "It's a poor place, ma'am, for a lady the likes of yees."