Rose stepped out of the taxi and looked up at the buildings rising overhead. An elevated train ran past on the track above the middle of Wabash Avenue. The wind blew furiously and before she knew it, Rose had a mouthful of her own hair.

"Phhhhh," she said, almost gagging. "Jack, let's get inside before I blow away."

He looked up from paying the taxi driver and nodded at her.

"Alright, you go on ahead inside. I'll be right there.

Rose wandered through the front doors into the huge lobby. There were potted plants everywhere. The room was furnished in crimson upholstered sofas and intricately carved tables. She wondered if Bertha Palmer had a hand in decorating this room. Rose remembered vaguely meeting the Palmers at her Bukater grandparent's summer home when she had been a child. If she remembered correctly, Mrs. Palmer had been as overdressed and over decorated as this lobby. She knew that Mr. Potter Palmer had been, before his death a few years earlier, one of the richest men in Chicago. He had owned most of the property on State Street, which Rose could see out the door on the far side of the lobby. Her thoughts on the wealth of the Palmer family were interrupted as Jack joined her.

"I guess Molly has good taste,"said Jack, as he joined her and looked up at the towering marble columns and curved staircase.

Molly had told Jack just where to go in Chicago. Of course the Palmer House was an expensive hotel, but she suggested that is was better to be in the best hotel with the least costly room. She had advised Jack that it would be safer for them and besides it was right in the heart of the city.

"Hey, look at this. Come here Rose. Look three hotels, all called the Palmer House."

He reached for her hand and took her over to the pictures on the wall. Apparently they were staying at one of Chicago's oldest hotels. According to the notes on the pictures, a hotel had stood on this site since 1870. The building that they were in had been constructed after the great Chicago Fire.

"What bad luck," commented Rose. "Imagine opening a new hotel in March and having it burn in October."

"Looks like they made of go of it though. Come on Rose, let's get upstairs and then we can decide what we are going to do."

Jack looked longingly at a slightly disheveled Rose. If he had his way, he knew what he would decide to do once they got to their room.

In a most unladylike movement, Rose plopped herself on the comfortable looking bed in their room.

"Mmmmmm, this is a wonderful bed," she declared.

Jack stood by the window checking out the view from their room. He looked over at her sprawled on the bed.

"I guess this is the view that comes with the least expensive room. The roofs of the train cars," he said in a disappointed voice.

"Oh Jack, who cares. I don't think we'll be looking out the window much do you,"said Rose with a hopeful look on her face.

"Awww, you're right, Rose. But I guess I look at things from an artist's point of view."

He turned from the window and squinted his eyes and stared at her for a moment.

" Now from where I stand looking over in this direction, the artists point of view is pretty good."

Rose blushed as Jack studied her.

He took off his jacket and loosened his tie and laid down next to Rose.

"I don't know about you, but I am exhausted,"he said. "I didn't sleep that well last night."

She was lying on her side and put her arm across his chest and moaned contentedly.

"So what have you got planned for us in Chicago?"

Jack explained that the one thing he really wanted to see was the Art Institute.

"They have a really fine collection of paintings there. Is that okay with you, Rose?"

"Yes, yes, of course. There is one thing that I want to get here though. Something that we didn't have time for in New York. I want a camera Jack. Just the most simple one that they sell. I've read that a person can be just as creative with a camera as a paintbrush. And I've seen photographs of the west. I want to take some pictures like that."

Jack put his arm around her. There was so much that they did not know about each other. They were married and had survived a shipwreck. That was all that they had in common. That and their love for one another. For Jack to find out that Rose was interested in another form of art was a wonderful discovery.

"Should we go and get one now?" he asked. "I'll ask someone downstairs where there is a camera store. What do you say? Rose?"

But she had already drifted off to sleep.

Rose and Jack stood amidst the wood and glass cases of Central Camera Store, just two blocks south of the Palmer House. There were several models of Kodak cameras on the counter. The young man who was assisting them was explaining the features of the various cameras.

After much deliberation, Rose finally chose a vest pocket model Kodak.

"That goes for $12 dollars," said the clerk.

Rose looked at Jack for his approval. She knew that the money they were spending on this trip would have to be paid back to Molly. She hoped that they could afford this little extravagance.

"Here, here's the $12. But I guess we need some film,"said Jack as he carefully counted out twelve one dollar bills.

Rose who still had everything to learn about cameras, tried to ask intelligently, "What type of film does it use?"

The clerk checked the small booklet that came with the camera.

"Looks like A127. But if you are planning on heading out west, like you said, you better stock up now. Might be hard to find it between here and San Francisco. I'd suggest about 8 or 10 rolls."

Jack told the clerk to wrap it all up and he gave him the extra money for the film. Outside the store, they could see debris flying as the wind picked up.

"I guess that's why they call Chicago the Windy City,"remarked Jack.

"No, not at all,"answered the clerk. "The name is not from the wind, it's because we have some long winded politicians here."

"Oh,"they both said laughing.

The clerk handed Rose her package and thanked them for stopping in.

"Good luck with the camera. If you're passing this way, stop in and show us your pictures."

"Yes, if we come this way, we'll stop in,"answered Rose politely.

"I'm starving,"said Rose, with her hand on her rumbling stomach.

They had been busy on the first day of their visit to Chicago. After a short nap and buying a camera for Rose, they had managed to spend most of the afternoon at the Art Institute. Before they entered the building, Rose had insisted on photographing Jack on the steps.

"I've got to get some practice," she said as she grinned back at him from behind the lens.

"Rose, I wonder if we will see anything at all on this trip, if you're going to be looking through the lens and I'll have my head in a sketchbook," he commented, as he patiently waited for her to click the shutter.

They had seen most of the exhibition halls in the beautiful building that had been completed in 1902. In the last room, Rose gasped as she saw a full length portrait of an attractive middle aged woman. The lady was dressed in white and looked almost ethereal. Rose tapped Jack's arm to call his attention to the painting.

"That's our hostess," she said.

"What are you talking about Rose?"said Jack, looking up at the woman in the portrait.

"The lady in the painting. That's Mrs. Potter Palmer. As in Palmer House,"she emphasized.

"You know her?"asked an amazed Jack.

"Not really, but I met her once a long time ago."

They studied the picture for a minute and Jack looked at the little plaque on the frame. It gave the name of an artist he did not recognize, Anders Zorn and the date that the picture of Bertha Honore Palmer had been painted as 1893. Maybe someday, he thought he could do a picture like that of Rose.

"Jack, let's go somewhere and eat. I'm really hungry now,"Rose reminded him again.

"Alright," he agreed.

But where should they go? He tried to remember what Molly had told him. It was something that began with an H. There was a policeman directing traffic on the corner. He'd probably know.

As soon as Jack had asked the question, the policeman smiled and pointed them in the right direction.

"Walk four blocks that way on Michigan and then go left on Randolph. It'll be on your right about 3 blocks down."

Jack nodded and thanked him for his help. They moved through the late afternoon crowds and managed to get through the crush of car and trolley traffic at State and Randolph. Finally they saw the long white and black sign that said "Henrici's".

"Now that we're here, you'd better eat,"said Jack as he held the door open for Rose. "I can't keep track of what you want. Sometimes you eat nothing, and the next minute, you have an appetite like a lumberjack. I don't know Rose."

Jack shook his head as he looked at her affectionately.

"I will eat Jack, I really want to tonight."

They sat lingering over their dessert. After Rose had finished a plate of roast chicken and potatoes, Jack was temporarily satisfied that she was feeling better. The waiter had suggested that they sample the specialty of the house as their dessert. The huge plate of apple pancakes had arrived. It was so hot and airy that it had actually looked like it was alive and breathing. While it cooled, Rose and Jack talked about their plans for the next day.

"We have some more shopping to do. You need some things for our trip to Yellowstone Park."

Jack told her that her delicate shoes and summer dresses were not the proper attire for the wilderness.

"But we'll take care of that tomorrow. I think it will be a nice surprise for you. And maybe we can go to the see the lake."

Rose could not imagine what Jack wanted her to wear on the rest of the trip, but she'd find out soon enough. He seemed to know best about those things. As far as seeing another body of water, well, if Jack was with her, she thought she could do anything.

They finished their meal with coffee that was served with puffy cream that came in a separate little cup. They had been there so long that the high ceilinged room with the black and white tile floor was almost empty.

Jack and Rose walked hand in hand, as they strolled along State Street, back to the hotel. The wind had calmed down and they were enjoying the lovely May evening.

"You know Jack, this is the best honeymoon, I've ever had"

Jack stopped and looked into her eyes. He looked so serious that Rose was almost afraid of what he might say. Surely he couldn't be sorry about any of this.

He took put his hand on her cheek and stroked her face. As usual, this sensation, made Rose feel weak.

"I want both of us to take care of ourselves, so this is the ONLY honeymoon we'll ever have. Might be a little long though. Maybe 60 or 70 years?"

On hearing this, Rose flung her arms around him and buried her face against his chest. Her words were muffled, but he could still hear her say,"

"Oh, Jack, I do love you."