"If I ever was a little uneasy it was in the beginning, Hattie--the girl--those things don't always turn out." "It's her as much as me, I.W. She's the sweetest little thing." "Never seen the like the way you took hold, though. I'll bet there's not one woman in a hundred could have worked it out easier." "That's right--kid me to death." "'Kid,' she says, the minute I tell her the truth." "Put on your cap, I.W.; it's getting damp." He felt under the chair-cushions, drawing out and adjusting a black skull-cap. "Want to go to the picture-show awhile, Hattie?" "No. When Lizzie's done the dishes, I want to set some dough." "Let's walk, then, a little. I ate too much supper." "Just in the side yard, I.W. It's a shame the way I don't dress evenings." "S-ay, in your own home, shouldn't you have your own comfort? You can take it from me, Hattie, no matter what Effie tells you, you're twice the looking woman with some skin on your bones. I want my wife when she sits down to table she should not look blue-faced when the gravy is passed. Maybe it's not the style, but if it suits your old man, we should worry who else it suits." "It's not right, I.W., but I love it--this feeling at home for--for good." She rose out of the low mound she had made in the chair, tucking up the white wrapper at both sides. "Come; let's walk in the side yard." A narrow strip of asphalt ran across the housefrontage, turning in a generous elbow and then back the depth of the lot. They paced it quietly in the gloom, arm in arm, and their voices under darkness. "Next month is my New York trip. All of a sudden Effie begs I should take her. We'll all go. What you say, Hattie? It'll do us good." "You take the kid, I.W. Lizzie needs watching. Yesterday I had to make her do the whole butler's pantry over. She just naturally ain't clean." "You got such luck with your roses, Hattie; it's wonderful!" They were beneath a climbing bush of them that ran along, glorifying a wooden fence. She pulled a fan of them to her face. "M-m-m-m!" "I must spray for worms to-morrow," he said. They resumed their soft walking in the gloom. "Where's Effie?" "Telephoning." "I ask you, is it a shame a child should hang on to the telephone an hour at a time? Fifty minutes since she was interrupted from supper she's been there." "What's the harm in a young girl telephoning, I.W.? All young folks like to gad over the wire." "What can a girl have to say over the telephone for fifty minutes? Altogether in my life I never talked that long into the telephone." "Let the child alone, I.W." "Who can she get to listen to her for fifty minutes?" "Birdie Harberger usually calls up at this time." "Always at supper-time! Never in my life has that child sat down at the table it don't ring in our faces. The next time what it happens you can take sides with her all you want, not one step does she move till she's finished with her supper."