Felice followed through the whole untidy apartment into the narrow cluttered room. It appeared that the children were not yet dressed nor had their beds been put in order and they sat, two weedy pallid- looking mites, in the midst of a tremendous heap of broken toys and fought desperately for the possession of an eyeless, hairless carcass of a doll. A sewing machine piled high with garments was in front of the one broad window that opened on the gloomy whiteness of the court. An overturned basket, from which oozed tangled spools and myriads of buttons, lay on the floor in front of the machine. A stiff-backed gilt chair stood beside it. "I cut out some pinafores yesterday," continued the fretful voice, "I wish you would run up the seams of those on the machine--french-seam them, please--and if I get time I'll show you how I want the collars-- " Felicia stood, absurdly little beside her plump employer, and spoke the first words she'd been given opportunity to utter, "Good morning, Madame," she said in her clear contralto, "I think you do not understand. The Exchange should have told you that I am a needle-woman--that I do only hand work--I do not understand sewing machines--" "Not understand sewing machines!" shrilled the kimonoed one, "why anybody with any sense at all can run a sewing machine--" Felicia smiled her wide ingenuous smile. "I am not any one at all--but it so happens that I cannot use a sewing machine. Perhaps I can please you with my needle. Or, I can go home." "You can't do anything of the kind. It's the maid's day out and I have to go to a matinee and I'd counted on you to watch the children--" she shook her head in exasperation. "Well, take off your hat, don't stand there gawping. I suppose I'll have to put up with it. Do you know enough to sew on buttons and mend stockings?" Felicia looked at her curiously for a moment. She couldn't think of any flower or any vegetable that this strange creature was like, or any weed for that matter, and it's very hard to keep the garden of a day in order when strange unexpected things spring up in it. She took off her hat and her dripping coat. She seated herself in the silly chair and began to make something like order out of the mess of crumpled things before her. Somehow or other the dreadful day limped along. The children howled while they were dressed. Their mother by turns nagged or cajoled them from one crying spell into another. The frowsy maid pulled the covers untidily over the two little beds and half-heartedly picked up a few of the toys and dumped them in a closet. Felicia's delicate fingers guided her needle back and forth making exquisite darns and patches in small petticoats and dresses. One grudging word of approval did her plump and fretful employer allow her. "You certainly can sew, but you needn't bother to take such small stitches--I wish you'd stop fussing with that and press my frock--"