but under his arm she could see the darkened shops they passed,
girls and men streaming out of doors marked "Employees Only," men
who ran for the car and caught it, men who ran for the car and
missed it. Her bright eyes did not miss an inch of the crowded
streets.

Susan smiled dreamily. She was arranging the details of her own
wedding, a simple but charming wedding in Old Saint Mary's. The
groom was of course Mr. Peter Coleman.




CHAPTER II


The McAllister Street cable-car, packed to its last inch, throbbed
upon its way so jerkily that Susan, who was wedged in close to the
glass shield at the front of the car, had sometimes to cling to the
seat with knees and finger-tips to keep from sliding against her
neighbor, a young man deep in a trade-journal, and sometimes to
brace herself to withstand his helpless sliding against her. They
both laughed presently at the absurdity of it.

"My, don't they jerk!" said the friendly Susan, and the young man
agreed fervently, in a bashful mumble, "It's fierce, all right," and
returned to his book. Susan, when she got down at her corner, gave
him a little nod and smile, and he lifted his hat, and smiled
brightly in return.