better as you. For what his expense accounts are--always a parlor car
he has to have--he can take care of hisself twice better as us, mamma.
Mamma, you should feel fine now we got started. I wish, mamma, you could
see such a card-room and such a dining-room they got up-stairs--gold
chairs like you never seen. We should go up on deck, Carrie, and--"

"Ach, Simon, Simon, why don't that child come! So nearly crazy I never
was in my life. And now on top my Ray gone too. In a few minutes the
boat sails, and I don't know yet if I got a child on board. I tell you,
Simon, when Ray comes back I think it's better we carry off our trunks
and--"

"Na, na, mamma, hear out in the hall. I told you so! Didn't I tell you
they come? You hear now Miriam's voice. Didn't I tell you, didn't I tell
you?"

"Mamma, papa, here we are!"

And in the doorway the hesitant form of erstwhile Miriam Binswanger, her
eyes dim as if obscured by a fog of tulle, over one shoulder the flushed
face of Mr. Irving Shapiro, and in turn over his the dark, quick
features of Ray, flashing their quick expressions.

"I--I found 'em, mamma, just coming on board."

A white flame of anger seemed suddenly to lick dry the two tears that
staggered down Mrs. Binswanger's plump cheeks.

"I tell you, Miriam, you got a lots of regards for your parents."

"But, mamma, we--"

"A child what can worry her mother like this! Ten minutes before we sail
on board she comes just like nothing had happened. I should think, Mr.
Shapiro, that a young man what can hold a responsible position like you,
would see as a young girl what he invites out to lunch should have more
regards for her parents as you both."

"Mamma, you--But just wait, mamma."

Miriam stepped half resolutely into the room, peeling the glove from off
her left hand, and her glance here and there and everywhere with the
hither and thither of a wind-blown leaf.

"Mamma, guess what--what we--we got to tell you? Mamma, we--Irving,
you--you tell," Her bared hand fell like a quivering wing and she shrank
back against his gray tweed coat-sleeve. "Irving, you tell!"

"Miriam, nothing ain't wrong! Izzy, my--"

"No, no, Mrs. Binswanger, nothing is wrong; what Miriam was trying to
say was that everything's right, wasn't it, Miriam?"

"Yes, Irving."

Mr. Binswanger threw two hands with the familiar upward gesture. "Come,
right away in a few minutes you got to get off, Shapiro. First I take
you up and show you the ca