CHAPTER III
TREATING OF A NOVEL STYLE OF GIRL
One afternoon, as I was hurrying down Broadway to catch the five o'clock train, I met Waterford. He is an old friend of mine, and I used to like him pretty well.
"Hello!" said he, "where are you going?"
"Home," I answered.
"Is that so? " said he. "I didn't know you had one."
I was a little nettled at this, and so I said, somewhat brusquely, perhaps:
"But you must have known I lived somewhere?"
"Oh, yes! But I thought you boarded," said he. "I had no idea that you had a home."
"But I have one, and a very pleasant home, too. You must excuse me for not stopping longer, as I must catch my train,"
"Oh! I'll walk along with you," said Waterford, and so we went down the street together.
"Where is your little house?" he asked.
Why in the world he thought it was a little house I could not at the time imagine, unless he supposed that two people would not require a large one. But I know now that he lived in a very little house himself.
But it was of no use getting angry with Waterford, especially as I saw he intended walking all the way
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