about your own brother, Minnie. If I had a brother like him, I'd be so proud I'd have nothin' but nice things to say."
Minnie's laugh was tauntingly bitter. "Poor old Els, it's because you're stuck on him! It's because you don't know how tough he is to get along with. Honest," she looked with contemptuous pity at Elsie's plain face, "there's a bunch of other fellows you oughta try to land, and give Pete the air. He don't know you're on earth, Els, and even if he did he wouldn't show you no more consideration than he does for ma. He's just a born loafer, that's all Pete is."
Elsie flared up savagely. "He's just unfortunate, Min, and you know it. He told me all about it the other day. He says every time he lands a new job somethin' happens to keep him from it, like as if some invisible black hand was movin' against him. There's his very words the way he said 'em. Poor Pete. I didn't think it was like you to kick a fellow when he's down, especially when he's your own flesh and blood."
"Aw, can it, Elsie. Now you're goin' on like ma does, and it gives me a pain. I get enough of that at home without lectures on the side from my girl friends. Look here, Els, don't pull it on me again or we don't walk home together, do you get me?"
Elsie's thin lips closed tightly over her projecting teeth, drawing in the hollows of her cheeks. The blush had gone and in its place was a gray pallor, so dead that it did not even reflect the flame of the bright red hat. In her sunken eyes was such a look of despair that it aroused Minnie's pity. She slipped her arm around Elsie's waist. "I'm awful sorry if I said anything to hurt you, Elsie," she whispered placatingly. "It's only because I'm so fond of you that I want you to lay off Pete and go lookin' around for somebody else before it's too late."
