"I no savvy how can do it," said Jenny in great trouble. "If I do um up firs' I no get in and if I no do um up it fall off. How can white lady do, when she have no one help her?" It was an awful puzzle which she could not solve. A worse trouble was at hand, however, for when she tried to put on the shoes meant for her they were too small. "What I do?" asked Jenny of herself in the glass. "My ole shoes no good and my foot too big for this little shoe. I have shem go without shoe and with dless undone. I wis' I had someone help me. But alla same I very pretty I tink, but I have shame of everything. I no more good, no more virtuous--" Her lip hung down preparatory to her bursting into tears. But Quin knocked at the door. "Muckamuck ready, tenas Jenny," he said. And Jenny murmured that she would come directly. "He very kind man I tink," said Jenny, "I ask him through the door if he mind I no have shoe." The door led straight through into the sitting-room. In her turn she knocked on it timidly and opened it an inch. "Mista Quin, I have shem--" "Why, tenas Jenny?" asked Quin. "I no can put on shoe," she said. Quin laughed and she shrank back. "Come in, never mind," he said as he came to the door and pushed it open. She bent her head. "And please, Mista Quin, I no can do dless up at back. I much aflaid it fall off." Quin came into the room as Sam brought in the dinner. He shut the door and caught her in his arms. "I have shem," she murmured, but he kissed her neck and mouth. "I have shem." He did the dress up at the back and held her away from him at arm's length. "By the Holy Mackinaw, you are a pretty girl, Jenny," he said thickly. "You bebee me now?" The slow tears rolled down her face as she lifted it to him. "Yes, Mista Quin, but I have shem," she said simply. Sam banged on the door. "Chow-chow, Sir and Missus," said Sam, who was much interested in the "love pidgin;" "Chow-chow all leady, Sir and Missus." It was an amazing dinner for Jenny. She had never seen the like save in the kitchen of Mrs. Alexander's hotel, and if she had eaten anything half as good, it was when she was a tenas klootchman and sat outside on the wood-pile with a plate of food given her by the hotel cook. But that Chinese cook wasn't a patch on Sam, who had been nerved to unwonted efforts by the new situation and by the extra five dollars while the new "Missus" stayed. He put out Quin's best cutlery and polished the electro-plate till it shone indeed. The glasses were like crystal and there was a bottle of champagne, made in San Francisco (and perhaps very little the worse for that, seeing the quality of western imported wines), on the full table.