"Yes; she's sick--maybe dyin'. I--please--she wants to see somebody that can't--can't--" "What, little lady?" "She's sick--dyin' maybe. She wants to see somebody that can't--can't--" "Take your time, little lady--can't _what_?" "Can't come." "Who can't come?" "He--my young--he's a young man. She's never seen him; and if--please, if you'd come and act super--just like you was fillin' in at a show; if you'd act like my young man just for a minute--please! My friend, he can't come--he can _never_ come; but she--she wants him. You come, please! You come, please!" She tugged at his arm, and he descended another step and peered into the exacerbated anxiety of her face. "On the level, little lady?" "Please--just for a minute! For somebody that's sick--maybe dyin'. Just tell her you're my young man--tell her everything's all right--everything's comin' all right for all of us, for her and--and my little brother, and--and me--you and me--like you was my young man, please, lovin' and all. And tell her how pretty her poor hair is and how everything's goin'--goin' to be all right. Come, please--it's just next door." "Why, you poor little thing! I ain't much on play-actin'; and look at my hands all black from the power-house!" "Please! That ain't nothin'. It'll be only a minute. Just kinda say things after me and don't let her know--don't let her know that I--I ain't got any young man. Don't let her know!" "You poor little thing, you--shaking like a leaf! Lead the way; but not so fast, little lady--you'll give out." She cried and laughed her relief and dragged him across the sidewalk; and every step up the two flights she struggled to keep her hysterical voice within the veil of a whisper. "Just say everythin' right after me. You--you're my young man and real sweet on me; and we're going to get--you know; everythin' is goin' to be fine, and my little brother's going to the Electric Institute, and everythin's goin' to be swell. Be right lovin' to her, sir--she's so sick. Oh, Gawd, I--" "Don't cry, little girl." "I ain't cryin'." "Careful; don't stumble." "Don't _you_ stumble. Can you see? The landing's so dark." "Yes; I can see by the shine of your hair, little lady." "'Sh-h-h-h!" The door stood open at the angle she had left it, and by proxy of the slab of mirror over the mantelpiece she could see her mother's head propped against her brother's gold-braided shoulder, and the bright eyes shining out like a gazelle's in the dark. "Essie?" "We are here, ma--me and Joe." She threw a last appeal over her shoulder and led the way into the bedroom; her companion followed, stooping to accommodate his height to the doorway. "Ma dearie, this is Joe." "Joe! It ain't like me, Joe, not to get up; but I just ain't got the strength--to-night, Joe." He bent his six-feet-two over the bed and smiled at her from close range. "Well, well, well! So this is ma dear, dearie?" "That's her, Joe."