“Why, yes, of course you are,” said Mrs. Hardwick, in a practical, matter-of-fact tone.  “Here, cross the street here.  Take care or you’ll get run over.  Now turn down here.”

They had now entered a narrow and dirty street, with unsightly houses on either side.

“This ain’t a very nice looking street,” said Ida, looking about her.

“Why isn’t it?” demanded the nurse, looking displeased.

“Why, it’s narrow, and the houses don’t look nice.”

“What do you think of that house, there?” asked Mrs. Hardwick, pointing out a tall, brick tenement house.

“I shouldn’t like to live there,” said Ida, after a brief survey.

“You shouldn’t!  You don’t like it so well as the house you live in in New York?”

“No, not half so well.”

The nurse smiled.

“Wouldn’t you like to go up and look at the house?” she asked.

“Go up and look at it!” repeated Ida, in surprise.

“Yes, I mean to go in.”

“Why, what should we do that for?”

“You see there are some poor families living there that I go to see sometimes,” said Mrs. Hardwick, who appeared to be amused at something.  “You know it is our duty to visit the poor.”

“Yes, that’s what mother says.”

“There’s a poor man living in the third story that I’ve made a good many clothes for, first and last,” said the nurse, in the same peculiar tone.

“He must be very much obliged to you,” said Ida, thinking that Mrs. Hardwick was a better woman than she had supposed.

“We’re going up to see him, now,” said the nurse.  “Just take care of. that hole in the stairs.  Here we are.”

Somewhat to Ida’s surprise, her companion opened the door without the ceremony of knocking, and revealed a poor untidy room, in which a coarse, unshaven man, was sitting in his shirt-sleeves, smoking a pipe.

“Hallo!” exclaimed this individual, jumping up suddenly.  “So you’ve got along, old woman!  Is that the gal?”

Ida stared from one to the other, in unaffected amazement.

CHAPTER X.

Unexpected quarters.

The appearance of the man whom Mrs. Hardwick addressed so familiarly was more picturesque than pleasing.  He had a large, broad face, which, not having been shaved for a week, looked like a wilderness of stubble.  His nose indicated habitual indulgence in alcoholic beverages.  His eyes, likewise, were bloodshot, and his skin looked coarse and blotched; his coat was thrown aside, displaying a shirt which bore evidence of having been useful in its day and generation.  The same remark may apply to his nether integuments, which were ventilated at each knee, indicating a most praiseworthy regard to the laws of health.  He was sitting in a chair pitched back against the wall, with his feet resting on another, and a short Dutch pipe in his mouth, from which volumes of smoke were pouring.