tely after Cabinski's departure Pepa called through the door,
"Nurse, come here!"

The nurse had just returned with the coffee and the boys whom she
had dragged in from the yard with difficulty.

She served the breakfast to the children and promised: "Eddy . . .
you will get a pair of new shoes . . . papa will buy them for you.
Teddy will get a new suit and Jadzia a dress . . . Drink your
coffee, dears!"

She patted their heads, handed them the rolls and wiped their faces
with maternal solicitude. She loved them and fussed over them as
though they were her own children.

"Nurse!" shouted Cabinska, sticking her head through the door.

"Yes, I hear you."

"Where is Tony?"

"She's gone to the laundry."

"You will go, nurse, for my dress to Sowinska on Widok Street. Do
you know where it is? . . ."

"Of course, I know! . . . That skinny woman who's as cross as a
chained dog. . . ."

"Go right away."

"Mamma! . . . let us also go with nurse . . ." begged the children,
for they feared their mother.

"You will take the children along with you, nurse."

"Of course, that's understood . . . I wouldn't leave them here
alone!"

She dressed the children, put on a sort of woolen dress with broad
red and white stripes, covered her head with a kerchief, and went
out with them.

Cabinska dressed and was about to go out, when the bell rang. A
small, rather corpulent and very active gentleman pushed his way in.
It was the counselor.

His face was carefully shaven, he wore gold-rimmed glasses on his
small nose, and a smile, that seemed glued there, on his thin lips.

"May I come in? . . . Will Madame Directress permit it? . . . Only
for a minute, for I must be right off again! . . ." he recited
rapidly.

"Of course, the esteemed counselor is always welcome. . . ." called
Cabinska, appearing.

"Good morning! Pray let me kiss your little hand. . . . You look
charming to-day. I merely dropped in here on my way . . ."

"Please be seated."

The counselor sat down, wiped his glasses with his handkerchief,
smoothed his very sparse, but ungrayed black hair, hastily crossed
his legs, and blinked a few times with neuralgic eyes.

"I read in to-day's Messenger a very flattering mention about you,
Madame Directress."

"It's unmerited, for I don't know how that role ought to be played."

"You played it beautifully, wonderfully!"

"Oh, you're a naughty flatterer, Mr. Counselor! . . ." she chided.

"I speak nothing bu