She gathered up her skirts, and fled incontinently across the streets, with policemen looking after her with haughty disapprobation.

But when she was told to step lively on the trolley-cars, her true self asserted its endurance.

"I am not going to step in front of a team for you or any other person," she told one conductor, and she spoke with such emphasis that even he was intimidated, and held the car meekly until the team had passed.

When Aunt Maria came home from New York that particular afternoon, she had an expression at once of defiance and embarrassment, which both Maria and her father noticed.
"Well, what did you see in New York, Maria ?" asked Harry, pleasantly.
"I saw the greatest lot of folks without manners, that I ever saw in my whole life," replied Aunt Maria, sharply.
Harry Edgham laughed.

"You'll get used to it," he said, easily.
"Everybody who comes from New England has to take time to like New York.