upon the door to hurry Lily! But she rang, and
rang again, before she heard a child's voice: "Maw. Somebody at the
door."

"Well, go open it, can't you?"

She heard little scuffing steps on the oilcloth in the hall; then the
door opened, and Jacky stood there. He fixed his blue, impersonal eyes
upon her, and waited.

"Is your mother in?" Eleanor said, breathlessly.

"Yes, ma'am," said Jacky.

"Who is it?" Lily called to him; she was somewhere in the back of the
house, and Eleanor could hear the clatter of dishes being gathered up
from an unseen supper table. Jacky, unable to answer his mother's
question, was calmly silent.

"My land! That child's a reg'lar dummy! Jacky, who _is_ it?"

"_I_ do' know," Jacky called back.

"I am Mrs. Curtis," Eleanor said; "I want to see your mother."

"She says," Jacky called--then paused, because it occurred to him to
hang on to the door knob and swing back and forth, his heels scraping
over the oilcloth; "she says," said Jacky, "she's Mrs. Curtis."

The noise of the dishes stopped short. In the dining room Lily stood
stock-still; "My God!" she said. Then her eyes narrowed and her jaw set;
she whipped off her apron and turned down her sleeves; she had made up
her mind: "_I'll lie it through._"

She came out in the hall, which was scented with rose geraniums and
reeked with the smell of bacon fat, and said, with mincing politeness,
"Were you wishing to see me?"

"Yes," Eleanor said.

"Step right in," said Lily, opening the parlor door. "Won't you be
seated?" Then she struck a match on the sole of her shoe, lit the gas,
blew out the match, and turned to look at her visitor. She put her hand
over her mouth and gasped. Under her breath she said, "His _mother_!"

"Mrs. Dale," Eleanor began--

"Well, there!" said Lily, pleasantly (but she was pale); "I guess you
have the advantage of me. What did you say your name was?"

"My name is Curtis. Mrs. Dale, I--I know about your little boy."

"Is that so?" Lily said, with the simper proper when speaking to
strangers.

"I mean," Eleanor said, "I know about--" her lips were so dry she
stopped to moisten them--"about Mr. Curtis and you."

"I ain't acquainted with your son."

Eleanor caught her breath, but went on, "I haven't come to reproach
you."

Lily tossed her head. "Reproach? _Me?_ Well, I must say, I don't see no
cause why you should! _I_ don't know no Mr. Curtis!" She was alertly on
guard for Maurice; "I guess you've m