key. As if he were a child they would not
trust him with one. Nettie's women friends were just leaving. In the air
you smelled a mingling of perfume, and tea, and cakes, and powder. He
sniffed it, sensitively.

"How do you do, Mr. Minick!" they said. "How are you! Well, you
certainly look it. And how do you manage these gloomy days?"

He smiled genially, taking off his greatcoat and revealing the red
sweater with the big white "C" on it. "I manage. I manage." He puffed
out his cheeks. "I'm busy moving."

"Moving!" Nettie's startled eyes flew to his, held them. "Moving,
Father?"

"Old folks must make way for the young," he said, gaily. "That's the law
of life. Yes, sir! New ones. New ones."

Nettie's face was scarlet. "Father, what in the world----"

"I signed over at the Grant Home to-day. Move in next week." The women
looked at her, smiling. Old man Minick came over to her and patted her
plump arm. Then he pinched her smooth cheek with a quizzical thumb and
forefinger. Pinched it and shook it ever so little.

"I don't know what you mean," said Nettie, out of breath.

"Yes, you do," said old man Minick, and while his tone was light and
jesting there was in his old face something stern, something menacing.
"Yes, you do."

* * * * *

When he entered the Grant Home a group of them was seated about the
fireplace in the main hall. A neat, ruddy, septuagenarian circle. They
greeted him casually, with delicacy of feeling, as if he were merely
approaching them at their bench in the Park.

"Say, Minick, look here. Mowry here says China ought to have been
included in the four-power treaty. He says----"

Old man Minick cleared his throat. "You take China, now," he said, "with
her vast and practically, you might say, virgin country, why----"

An apple-cheeked maid in a black dress and a white apron stopped before
him. He paused.

"Housekeeper says for me to tell you your room's all ready, if you'd
like to look at it now."

"Minute. Minute, my child." He waved her aside with the air of one who
pays five hundred a year for independence and freedom. The girl turned
to go. "Uh--young lady! Young lady!" She looked at him. "Tell the
housekeeper two pillows, please. Two pillows on my bed. Be sure."

"Yes, sir. Two pillows. Yes, sir. I'll be sure."

GIGOLO

In the first place, _gigolo_ is slang. In the second place (with no
desire to appear patronizing, but one's French conversa