h the presence of herself and her son Harry; and Father and Mother
had been unable to think of any excuse strong enough to keep her away.
Lulu wasn't unkind to her parents; rather, she was too kind; she gave
them good advice and tried to arrange Mother's hair in the coiffures
displayed by Mrs. Edward Schuyler Deflaver of Saserkopee, who gave smart
teas at the Woman's Exchange. Lulu cheerily told Father how well he was
withstanding the hand of Time, which made him feel decrepit and become
profane.

In fact, though they took it for granted that they adored their dear
daughter Lulu, they knew that they would not enjoy a single game of
cribbage, nor a single recital by Signor Sethico Applebi the mouth-organ
virtuoso, as long as she was with them. But she was coming, and Mother
frantically cleaned everything and hid her favorite old shoes.

Mrs. Lulu Hartwig arrived with a steamer-trunk, two new gowns, a camera,
and Harry. She seemed disappointed not to find a large summer hotel with
dancing and golf next door to "The T Room," and she didn't hesitate to
say that her parents would have done better--which meant that Lulu would
have enjoyed her visit more--if they had "located" at Bar Harbor or
Newport. She rearranged the furniture, but as there was nothing in the
tea-room but chairs, tables, and a fireplace, there wasn't much she
could do.

She descended on Grimsby Center, and came back enthusiastic about Miss
Mitchin's. She had met the young man with the Albanian costume, and he
had talked to her about vorticism and this jolly new Polish composer
with his suite for tom-tom and cymbals. She led Father into the arbor
and effervescently demanded, "Why don't Mother and you have a place like
that dear old mansion of Miss Mitchin's, and all those clever people
there and all?"

Father fairly snarled, "Now look here, young woman, the less you say
about Miss Mitten the more popular you'll be around here. And don't you
dare to speak to your mother about that place. It's raised the devil
with our trade, and I won't have your mother bothered with it. And if
you mean the young fellow that needs a decent pair of pantaloons by this
'Albanian costume' business, why I sh'd think you'd be ashamed to speak
of him."

"Now, Father, of course you have particularly studied artists--"

"Look here, young woman, when you used to visit us in New York, it was
all right for you to get our goats by sticking your snub nose in the air
and asking us i