“My land!  That child’s a reg’lar dummy!  Jacky, who is it?”

“I do’ know,” Jacky called back.

“I am Mrs. Curtis,” Eleanor said; “I want to see your mother.”

“She says,” Jacky called—­then paused, because it occurred to him to hang on to the door knob and swing back and forth, his heels scraping over the oilcloth; “she says,” said Jacky, “she’s Mrs. Curtis.”

The noise of the dishes stopped short.  In the dining room Lily stood stock-still; “My God!” she said.  Then her eyes narrowed and her jaw set; she whipped off her apron and turned down her sleeves; she had made up her mind:  “I’ll lie it through.”

She came out in the hall, which was scented with rose geraniums and reeked with the smell of bacon fat, and said, with mincing politeness, “Were you wishing to see me?”

“Yes,” Eleanor said.

“Step right in,” said Lily, opening the parlor door.  “Won’t you be seated?” Then she struck a match on the sole of her shoe, lit the gas, blew out the match, and turned to look at her visitor.  She put her hand over her mouth and gasped.  Under her breath she said, “His mother!”

“Mrs. Dale,” Eleanor began—­

“Well, there!” said Lily, pleasantly (but she was pale); “I guess you have the advantage of me.  What did you say your name was?”

“My name is Curtis.  Mrs. Dale, I—­I know about your little boy.”

“Is that so?” Lily said, with the simper proper when speaking to strangers.

“I mean,” Eleanor said, “I know about—­” her lips were so dry she stopped to moisten them—­“about Mr. Curtis and you.”

“I ain’t acquainted with your son.”

Eleanor caught her breath, but went on, “I haven’t come to reproach you.”

Lily tossed her head.  “Reproach? Me? Well, I must say, I don’t see no cause why you should! I don’t know no Mr. Curtis!” She was alertly on guard for Maurice; “I guess you’ve mixed me up with some other lady.”

“Please!” Eleanor said; “I know.  He told me—­about Jacky.”

Instantly Lily’s desire to defend Maurice was tempered by impatience with him; the idea of him letting on to his mother!  Then, noticing her boy, who was silently observing the caller from the doorway, she said: 

“Jacky!  Go right out of this room.”

“Won’t,” said Jacky.  “She gimme the horn,” he remarked.

“Aw, now, sweety, go on out!” Lily entreated.

Jacky said, calmly, “Won’t.”

At which his mother got up and stamped her foot.  “Clear right out of this room, or I’ll see to you!  Do you hear me?  Go on, now, or I’ll give you a reg’lar spanking!”

Jacky ran.  He never obeyed her when he could help it, but he always recognized the moment when he couldn’t help it.  Lily closed the door, and stood with her back against it, looking at her caller.

“Well,” she said, “if you are on to it, I’m sure you ain’t going to make trouble for him with his wife.”