e air, and beating their hands
together, screamed, "Clem! Clem! Oh it's Clem!" and jumped up and down,
and a shabby looking work worn woman came round the corner of the house
and stared up at Clementina waving her banner wildly to the children, and
shouting unintelligible words to them. The young people on the coach
joined in response to the children, some simply, some ironically, and one
of the men caught up a great wreath of flowers which lay at Clementina's
feet, and flung it down to them; the shabby woman quickly vanished round
the corner of the house again. Mrs. Milray leaned over to ask the
landlord, "Who in the world are Clementina's friends?"

"Why don't you know?" he retorted in abated voice. "Them's her brothas
and sistas."

"And that woman?"

"The lady at the conna? That's her motha."

When the event was over, and all the things had been said and said again,
and there was nothing more to keep the spring and summer months from
going up to their rooms to lie down, and the fall and winter months from
trying to get something to eat, Mrs. Milray found herself alone with
Clementina.

The child seemed anxious about something, and Mrs. Milray, who wanted to
go and lie down, too, asked a little impatiently, "What is it,
Clementina?"

"Oh, nothing. Only I was afraid maybe you didn't like my waving to the
children, when you saw how queea they looked." Clementina's lips
quivered.

"Did any of the rest say anything?"

"I know what they thought. But I don't care! I should do it right over
again!"

Mrs. Milray's happiness in the day's triumph was so great that she could
indulge a generous emotion. She caught the girl in her arms. "I want to
kiss you; I want to hug you, Clementina!"

The notion of a dance for the following night to celebrate the success of
the house in the coaching parade came to Mrs. Milray aver a welsh-rarebit
which she gave at the close of the evening. The party was in the charge
of Gregory, who silently served them at their orgy with an austerity that
might have conspired with the viand itself against their dreams, if they
had not been so used to the gloom of his ministrations. He would not
allow the waitresses to be disturbed in their evening leisure, or kept
from their sleep by such belated pleasures; and when he had provided the
materials for the rarebit, he stood aloof, and left their combination to
Mrs. Milray and her chafing-dish.

She had excluded Clementina on account of her youth,