"You hear that, mama?" asked Minnie as she ushered Eleanor into the apartment. "She paid two hundred dollars for a flat once—and would you believe it, the hallways was as dark as ours. Oh, I'm so excited I almost forgot to introduce you. Eleanor, I'd like to have you make the acquaintance of ma—Mrs. Flynn."
Eleanor's face was paled by the exertion of the long walk upstairs and there was a bright red spot on each cheek, which Minnie thought was poorly applied rouge. Her eyes seemed unnaturally bright and when she spoke her voice lowered to a husky whisper.
"Mrs. Flynn, I'm delighted to meet you," she said with an air. "I hope I haven't put you out by dropping in unexpectedly."
Mrs. Flynn bobbed up and down, curtseying and as she pumped Eleanor's hand (held at the level of her eyebrows) she said, "Indeed you ain't. I'm always glad to have my daughters bring their friends home for pot-luck any time. We never put ourselves out or go to any extra work for 'em. Pa always says what's good enough for us is good enough for anybody. Sit right down and make yourself to home, dearie, I. . . ."
A nudge in the back from Minnie made her break off suddenly; unstrung, she pounced upon Eleanor's hat as she drew the hatpins out of it and carried it into the other room.
"You've got a very nice place," said Eleanor. After a pause, a bit embarrassedly, "Doesn't the noise get on your nerves, though?"
"Shucks, I'm used to the L's tearing by. I'd hate to live on them side streets. They're like graveyards. Yeh, give me a noisy place for company every time."
Mr. Flynn came in to be presented. He was wearing his best black suit which smelled strongly of mothballs; and his
