.

"The life," said Martha, "will bring back the color to your cheeks, the
flesh to your bones, the courage to your heart."

"Am I so dreadfully thin?"

"If I was that thin," said Martha, "I'd hate to have me best friends see
me without me clothes. But ye've the makin's of a Vanus, and that's more
than ever I had."

Miss Joy laughed aloud.

Then, after a silence, and very seriously: "You're sure he'd never know
that I was in the house?"

"Not unless I told him."

"But you wouldn't tell him?"

"Not if he hitched wild horses to me sacret and lashed them."

Another thoughtful silence.

"There's just one thing, Martha," said Miss Joy, "that I _won't_ do."

Martha flung up her hands in a gesture of despair.

"That's what they all say!" she cried. "That's how they all get out o'
comin'. Well, what is it that ye won't do?"

Miss Joy hated to say. She was a little ashamed. She had enjoyed the
reputation of being a good sport, a girl whom it was hard to dare. But
she had her weakness. "I won't," she said, "I won't--I can't--bring
myself to touch a live lobster."

Old Martha's face became extremely grave. She leaned forward. She was
all confidence.

"Deary," she said, "nor more can I."

The two women exploded into laughter, loud and prolonged.

"Well," said Miss Joy at last, and she was still laughing, "it's a
sporting proposition.... When do we start?"

"Ye must have warm clothes first."

"I have no money, Martha."

"Do ye remember a house ye took one winter, while your poor father was
tearin' out the innerds of his own?"

"On Park Avenue and--"

"The same," said Martha. "The northwest corner. Ye were my tenants that
winter.... Yes, deary, I am a rich old woman. And, between you and me,
your poor father wanted that house the worst way, and me agents stuck
him good and plenty. There's a balance comin' to ye, Miss Joy. 'Tis what
they call conscience money, and 'twill buy ye warm clothes, and maybe a
bit jool to go at your throat."

"Martha--Martha, what makes you so good to me?"

"Have ye not said ye never believed that me Poor Boy did what they said
he did?"

"Is that the only reason?"

"There's another," said Martha. "For in all the world, next to his,
ye've the swatest face and way with yez."

The old woman's emotions rose, and her brogue became heavier and heavier
upon her, until her words lost all semblance of meaning. And Miss Joy,
warm and well fed, leaned back in her deep chair and list