"Let me help you," Maurice said, politely; adding to himself, "Damn--damn--!" Stepping backward, he lifted the front wheels, and with Lily's help pulled the perambulator on to the little porch and over the threshold into the house--which always shone with immaculate neatness and ugly comfort. He kept his eyes away from the sleeping face on the pillow. Together they got the carriage into the hall--Lily fumbling all the while with one hand to fasten the front of her dress and skipping a button or two as she did so; but he had a glimpse of the heavy abundance of her bosom, and thought to himself that, esthetically, maternity was rather unpleasant. "Go on into the parlor and sit down," she said; "I'll put him in the kitchen," She pushed the elaborate wicker perambulator, adorned with bows of blue-satin ribbon, down a dark entry smelling of very good soup stock. When she came back she found Maurice, his hat and stick in his hands, standing in her tiny front room, where the sunny window was full of geraniums and scraggly rose bushes. "I got 'em in early. And I dug up my dahlias--I was afraid of frost. (Mercy! I must clean that window on the outside!) Well, you _are_ a stranger!" she said, again, good-naturedly. Then she sighed: "Mr. Curtis, Jacky seems kind o' sick. He's been coughing, and he's hot. Would you send for a doctor, if you was me?" "Why, if you're worried, yes," Maurice said, impatiently; "I was just passing, and--No, thank you; I won't sit down. I was passing, and I thought I'd look in and give you a--a little present. If the youngster's upset, it will come in well," he ended, as his hand sought his waistcoat pocket. Lily's face was instantly anxious. "What! Did _you_ think he looked sick, too? I was kind of worried, but if you noticed it--" "I didn't in the least," he said, frowning; "I didn't look at him." "He 'ain't never been what you'd call sick," Lily tried to reassure herself; "he's a reg'lar rascal!" she ended, tenderly; her eyes--those curious amber eyes, through which sometimes a tigress looks!--looked now at Maurice in passionate motherhood. Maurice, putting the money down on the table, said, "I wish I could do more for you, Lily; but I'm dreadfully strapped." "Say, now, you take it right back! I can get along; I got my two upstairs rooms rented, and I've got a new mealer. And if Jacky only keeps well, I can manage fine. But that girl that's been wheelin' him has measles at her house--little slut!" Lily said (the yellow eyes glared); "she didn't let on to me about it. Wanted her two dollars a week! If Jacky's caught 'em, I--I'll see to her!"