“Where are your mother and Ella?” she questioned again as she stepped into the room.  “I do want to see them!”

Jim was dragging forward a chair.  He answered.

“Then yer’d better sit down ‘n’ make yourself at home,” he told her, “fer they’ve gone out.  They’re down t’ th’ hospital, now, takin’ a last slant at Pa.  Ma’s cryin’ to beat th’ band—­you’d think that she really liked him!  An’ Ella’s cryin’, too—­she’s fergot how he uster whip her wit’ a strap when she was a kid!  An’ they’ve took Bennie; Bennie ain’t cryin’ but he’s a-holdin’ to Ma’s hand like a baby.  Oh,” he laughed sneeringly, “it’s one grand little family group that they make!”

Rose-Marie sat down gingerly upon the edge of the chair.  She did not relish the prospect of spending any time alone with Jim, but a certain feeling of pride kept her from leaving the place.  She would not let Jim know that she feared him—­it would flatter him to think that he had so much influence over her.  She would stay, even though the staying made her uneasy!  But she hoped, from the bottom of her heart, that the rest of the family would not be long at the hospital.

“When did they go out?” she questioned, trying to make her tone casual.  “Do you expect them back soon?”

Jim sat down in a chair that was near her own.  He leaned forward as he answered.

“They haven’t been gone so awful long,” he told her.  “An’—­say—­what’s th’ difference when they gets back?  I never have no chance to talk wit’ you—­not ever!  An’,” he sighed with mock tragedy, “an’ I have so much t’ say t’ yer!  You never have a word fer me—­think o’ that!  An’ think o’ all th’ time yer waste on Bennie—­an’ him too young t’ know a pretty girl when he sees one!”

Rose-Marie flushed and hated herself for doing it.  “We’ll leave personalities out of this!” she said primly.

Jim was laughing, but there was a sinister note in his mirth.

“Not much we won’t!” he told her.  “I like you—­see?  You’re th’ best lookin’ girl in this neck o’ woods—­even if you do live at the Settlement House!  If you’d learn to dress more snappy—­t’ care more about hats than yer do about Bible Classes—­you’d make a big hit when yer walked out on Delancy Street.  There ain’t a feller livin’ as wouldn’t turn t’ look at yer—­not one!  Say, kid,” he leaned still closer, “I’m strong fer yer when yer cheeks get all pink-like.  I’m strong fer yer any time a-tall!”

Rose-Marie was more genuinely shocked than she had ever been in her life.  The flush receded slowly from her face.

“You’d like me to be more interested in clothes than in Bible Classes!” she said slowly.  “You’d like me to go parading down Delancy Street ...” she paused, and then—­“You’re a fine sort of a man,” she said bitterly—­“a fine sort of a man!  Oh, I know.  I know the sort of people you introduce to Ella—­and she’s your sister.  I’ve seen the way you look at Lily, and she’s your sister, too!  You wouldn’t think of making things easier for your mother; and you’d give Bennie a push down—­instead of a boost up!  And you scoff at your father—­lying dead in his coffin!  You’re a fine sort of a man....  I don’t believe that you’ve a shred of human affection in your whole make-up!”