, a poor woman can't afford to be so independent. I got
big expenses and big rent; I got a daughter to raise--"

"Mama, haven't I begged you a hundred times to let me take up stenography
and get out and hustle so you can take it easy--haven't I?"

A thick coating of tears sprang to Mrs. Kaufman's eyes and muddled the gaze
she turned toward Mr. Vetsburg. "Is it natural, Mr. Vetsburg, a mother
should want her only child should have always the best and do always the
things she never herself could afford to do? All my life, Mr. Vetsburg, I
had always to work. Even when I was five months married to a man what it
looked like would some day do big things in the wool business, I was left
all of a sudden with nothing but debts and my baby."

"But, mama--"

"Is it natural, Mr. Vetsburg, I should want to work off my hands my
daughter should escape that? Nothing, Mr. Vetsburg, gives me so much
pleasure she should go with all those rich girls who like her well enough
poor to be friends with her. Always when you take her down to Atlantic City
on holidays, where she can meet 'em, it--it--"

"But, mommy, is it any fun for a girl to keep taking trips like that
with--with her mother always at home like a servant? What do people think?
Every holiday that Vetsy asks me, you--you back out. I--I won't go without
you, mommy, and--and I _want_ to go, ma, I--I _want_ to!"

"My Easter dinner and--"

"You, Mrs. Kaufman, with your Easter dinner! Ruby's right. When your mama
don't go this time not one step we go by ourselves--ain't it?"

"Not a step."

"But--"

"To-morrow, Mrs. Kaufman, we catch that one-ten train. Twelve o'clock I
call in for you. Put ginger in your mama, Ruby, and we'll open her eyes on
the boardwalk--not?"

"Oh, Vetsy!"

He smiled, regarding her.

Tears had fallen and dried on Mrs. Kaufman's cheeks; she wavered between a
hysteria of tears and laughter.

"I--children--" She succumbed to tears, daubing her eyes shamefacedly.

He rose kindly. "Say, when such a little thing can upset her it's high time
she took for herself a little rest. If she backs out, we string her up by
the thumbs--not, Ruby?"

"We're going, ma. Going! You'll love the Markovitchs' hotel, ma dearie,
right near the boardwalk, and the grandest glassed-in porch and--and
chairs, and--and nooks, and things. Ain't they, Vetsy?"

"Yes, you little Ruby, you," he said, regarding her with warm, insinuating
eyes, even crinkling an eyelid in a wink.