She closed the door on him abruptly, leaving him a little surprised in the street. "Ma!" he heard her calling, and swift speech followed, the import of which he didn't catch. Then she reappeared. It seemed but an instant, but she was changed; the arms had vanished into sleeves, the apron had gone, a certain pleasing disorder of the hair had been at least reproved. "I didn't mean to shut you out," she said, coming out upon the step. "I just told Ma. How are you, Elfrid? You _are_ looking well. I didn't know you rode a bicycle. Is it a new one?" She leaned upon his bicycle. "Bright it is!" she said. "What a trouble you must have to keep it clean!" Mr. Polly was aware of a rustling transit along the passage, and of the house suddenly full of hushed but strenuous movement. "It's plated mostly," said Mr. Polly. "What do you carry in that little bag thing?" she asked, and then branched off to: "We're all in a mess to-day you know. It's my cleaning up day to-day. I'm not a bit tidy I know, but I _do_ like to '_ave_ a go in at things now and then. You got to take us as you find us, Elfrid. Mercy we wasn't all out." She paused. She was talking against time. "I _am_ glad to see you again," she repeated. "Couldn't keep away," said Mr. Polly gallantly. "Had to come over and see my pretty cousins again." Miriam did not answer for a moment. She coloured deeply. "You _do say_ things!" she said. She stared at Mr. Polly, and his unfortunate sense of fitness made him nod his head towards her, regard her firmly with a round brown eye, and add impressively: "I don't say _which_ of them." Her answering expression made him realise for an instant the terrible dangers he trifled with. Avidity flared up in her eyes. Minnie's voice came happily to dissolve the situation. "'Ello, Elfrid!" she said from the doorstep. Her hair was just passably tidy, and she was a little effaced by a red blouse, but there was no mistaking the genuine brightness of her welcome. He was to come in to tea, and Mrs. Larkins, exuberantly genial in a floriferous but dingy flannel dressing gown, appeared to confirm that. He brought in his bicycle and put it in the narrow, empty passage, and everyone crowded into a small untidy kitchen, whose table had been hastily cleared of the _débris_ of the midday repast. "You must come in 'ere," said Mrs. Larkins, "for Miriam's turning out the front room. I never did see such a girl for cleanin' up. Miriam's 'oliday's a scrub. You've caught us on the 'Op as the sayin' is, but Welcome all the same. Pity Annie's at work to-day; she won't be 'ome till seven."