Marie Jean's room was in a state of disorder that suggested its owner had participated in late festivities the night before. A pair of soiled white slippers were flung under the bed, together with a pair of down-trodden shoes which Marie Jean, on her knees, was even now seeking. A white gown that had lost much of its pristine purity was thrown over a chair, while belts, ribbons, soap, corset-strings, fans, handkerchiefs, powder-puffs and stockings occupied conspicuous positions on the furniture or on the floor. Every drawer had its mouth shut tight on a large mouthful of its possessions,--and the dresser top was so filled with combs, brushes, perfumery, thread, safety pins, matches, hair-pins and bottles, that the only wonder was it could hold it all. But the rapt expression of Marie Jean Hennesy's face betokened that her thoughts were far away from the mean subject of household disorder. She was studying the programme of the ball of the night before, at which she had danced every number. To be sure, her slippers had hurt her, and she had endured an uncomfortable pinch in the waist, but murmurs of admiration on every side had told her she "looked lovely." She hummed a bit of a waltz tune and glanced coquettishly in the mirror as the remembrance of her conquests flowed warmly back to her: then discovering that by the morning light she was looking sallow, she rescued the jar of Maiden's Blush from under the bureau and deftly applied it to her cheeks. That Marie Jean's breakfast waited, no one with a nose could deny. The smoky fat of much fried bacon festooned the air in graceful clouds, alluring the tardy maid kitchenward. It swung riotously in the folds of the parlour curtains and luxuriated on the best plush parlour chairs, while the essence of boiled coffee stalked boldly upstairs, calling loudly, "Come down, Marie Jean,--we've waited for hours." In the kitchen there were evidences that Mrs. Hennesy had been scrubbing. A pail of scrubbing water stood on the floor, and the brush and soap lay beside. A sharp boundary line, also, divided the clean from the unclean. But the floor was quite dry, and Mrs. Hennesy's apron was nearly dry, and she was so absorbed in looking out of the window at the people that were moving in next door that she did not hear Marie Jean enter the kitchen. When she became aware of her presence she gave an apologetic little cough, and bustled about the stove serving the delayed breakfast. "If I'd knowed ye was up, Mary Jane," she said deprecatingly, "I'd've fixed somethin' else fer yer breakfast. I've been kapin' this since sivin o'clock an' it's near noon now. What kind of a time was there at the dance last night? I tried to kape awake till ye come in, but I was that tired wit' the ironin' I dropped off in spite of mesilf. Did ye enjoy yerself?"