o him in
rapid succession. The immigrant beamed and forgot all his troubles. He
lit a fifteen-cent cigar and puffed away as if he were used to it.

"Be your-a aunt," he said, "be-a anybody's aunt. You good-a feller."

This sentiment led to another round of drinks, and then the pair tumbled
into a cab, singing discordantly in two languages. Perkins fortunately
remembered the address of Haines, and was able to mumble it so that the
hackman could understand. Therefore there was no bar to his enjoyment.

Of course they stopped en route, for Perkins was brimming over with
gratitude and the cabman was included in their rejoicing. Long before
they reached Indiana Avenue, everybody was drunk except the horse.

In the meantime there was all sorts of trouble in the modest residence
of George Carey. The head of the household had fumed and fretted about
the Michigan Central depot, and finally started home, auntless. There he
met his wife, Mrs. Haines and Ella's young man with similar stories.
Five minutes later a carriage drove up and Ella and her charge alighted.

"Isn't she a dear little girl?" gurgled Miss Haines, who, being petite
and worried, didn't know anything else to do under the circumstances
except to gurgle.

Carey gazed at the young woman with distinct disapproval for the first
time in his life.

"I know the popular impression is that old ladies shrink," he said, "but
Aunt Mary could never have shrunk to that size. Where did you get her
and why?"

Falteringly, Miss Haines explained. Then she cried. The child, who had
regarded them gravely up to this point, took it for a signal. She
screamed, then she roared. Nobody could comfort her or find out who she
was.

The arrival of another cab distracted their attention. The bell rang
loudly. As Carey opened the door, an old woman bounded in. Her hat was
on one side of her head and her eyes gleamed madly.

"Safe at last!" she cried. Then she ran upstairs, entered Mrs. Haines's
room, and locked the door. Through the panels came the sound of
hysterical laughter.

Walter Haines entered the house at this moment. His attitude was
distinctly apologetic.

"Remarkable old lady, isn't she?" he ventured.

"Who?" asked Mr. Carey.

"Why your aunt, of course; didn't you see her come in?"

Carey choked down his wrath out of respect to the ladies, but it was
hard work.

"I never saw that woman before," he remarked; "you brought her here
uninvited, now you take her away."