what Mrs. Hutch said. It would be hard
on her, and hard on me. She grew red in the face; her voice grew
shriller with every word. My poor mother hung her head where she
stood; the children stared from their corners; the frightened baby
cried. The angry landlady rehearsed our sins like a prophet
foretelling doom. We owed so many weeks' rent; we were too lazy to
work; we never intended to pay; we lived on others; we deserved to be
put out without warning. She reproached my mother for having too many
children; she blamed us all for coming to America. She enumerated her
losses through nonpayment of her rents; told us that she did not
collect the amount of her taxes; showed us how our irregularities were
driving a poor widow to ruin.

My mother did not attempt to excuse herself, but when Mrs. Hutch began
to rail against my absent father, she tried to put in a word in his
defence. The landlady grew all the shriller at that, and silenced my
mother impatiently. Sometimes she addressed herself to me. I always
stood by, if I was at home, to give my mother the moral support of my
dumb sympathy. I understood that Mrs. Hutch had a special grudge
against me, because I did not go to work as a cash girl and earn three
dollars a week. I wanted to explain to her how I was preparing myself
for a great career, and I was ready to promise her the payment of the
arrears as soon as I began to get rich. But the landlady would not let
me put in a word. And I was sorry for her, because she seemed to be
having such a bad time.

At last Mrs. Hutch got up to leave, marching out as determinedly as
she had marched in. At the door she turned, in undiminished wrath, to
shoot her parting dart:--

"And if Mr. Anton does not bring me the rent on Monday, I will serve
notice of eviction on Tuesday, without fail."

We breathed when she was gone. My mother wiped away a few tears, and
went to the baby, crying in the windowless, air-tight room.

I was the first to speak.

"Isn't she queer, mamma!" I said. "She never remembers how to say our
name. She insists on saying _Anton--Anton_. Celia, say _Anton_." And I
made the baby laugh by imitating the landlady, who had made her cry.

But when I went to my little room I did not mock Mrs. Hutch. I thought
about her, thought long and hard, and to a purpose. I decided that she
must hear me out once. She must understand about my plans, my future,
my good intentions. It was too irrational to go on like this, we
l