"Then what did you do it for? You’ve no business to bring a girl like that into the house!" "She’s respectable," said Mrs. Russell. "You don’t know. She doesn’t look it. Anyway, even if she is, she’s no more fit to be a companion than--I don’t know what. It’s an insult to Polly!" "No, it isn’t. She’s a nice, cheerful girl, and she can be very useful. She sews----” "If you want her for a maid, call her a maid, and put her in a maid’s room. Why did you put her there, at the end of the hall? One of the best rooms!" "To be near me." "Near you? You said she was for Polly." "That’s no reason why she shouldn’t help me now and then when I----” "Now, look here!" interrupted the young man. "This is final. Either she goes to-morrow, or you’ll put her in her proper place. I won’t have her running around the house half-dressed. If she’s a maid, treat her as a maid. If you want a companion, get one--a real one. What does Polly say?" "Polly hasn’t seen her yet. I engaged her. I went all the way into the city to see her mother and find out about her. You know, Eddie, I’m paying her out of my own pocket, because I feel that Polly shouldn’t be left alone." "You ought to know better than to pick out a girl like this one!" he cried. "I’m disgusted. You’re so anxious to get rid of the trouble of looking after Polly that you’d pick up any one, out of the street--any one cheap!" He was very angry; his fair face flushed; he twisted his little mustache with a trembling hand. "I’d like to see her----” he began again. Angelica waited to hear no more. She rushed back to her own room and began to dress with frantic haste. "Well!" she said to herself. "It’s all up, now! I never thought it would last, anyway." At length she was dressed, shabby and dusty enough in her street clothes, but feeling far better prepared for an encounter with the blond young man. "All right!" she said. "All right! Let him fire me! I don’t care. I never pretended to be any different from what I am, anyway." She was defiant, but she wasn’t resentful, any more than she would have been if the boss of a factory had reproved her. She had grown up in the consciousness that there were in the world people who had a right to get angry and to reprove--teachers, policemen, bosses, rich people. There was a knock at the door, and a voice informed her sharply that Mrs. Russell was waiting for her. To her surprise and relief she found Mrs. Russell alone, and yawning. "I suppose we’ll have to go to bed now," she said. "It’s after twelve; so I’ll say good night to you." "Good night," Angelica answered.