Part 62 (1/2)

”My dear,” said Mrs. Trapes, blowing her tea, ”so do I! I been wonderin'

ever since he walked into my flat, cool as I don't know what, an', my dear, when I sets me mind t' wonderment, conclusions arrive--constant!

I'll tell ye what I think. First, he ain't s' poor as he seems--he wears silk socks, my dear. Second, he's been nurtured tender--he cleans them white teeth night an' morn. Third, he ain't done no toil-an'-spinnin'

act--take heed t' his hands, my dear. He's soft-spoke but he's masterful. He's young, but he's seen a lot. He ain't easy t' rile, but when he is--my land! He don't say a lot, an' he don't seem t' do much, an' yet--he don't seem t' starve none. Result--he may be anything!”

”Anything? Ann, dear!”

”Anything!” repeated Mrs. Trapes. ”An' havin' studied him good an'

heeded him careful, I now conclood he's jest the thing you need, my dear.”

”Then you like him, Ann--you trust him?”

”I sure do.”

”Oh, you dear--dear--dear thing!” And once again Mrs. Trapes was clasped in those vigorous young arms and kissed with every ”dear.”

”Though, mind you,” said Mrs. Trapes, pus.h.i.+ng cup and saucer out of harm's way, ”though, mind you, he's a mystery I ain't found out--yet. D'

ye s'pose he made any money out o' them blessed peanuts--not him! Mrs.

Smalley, as lives down along 'Leventh, she told me as she's seen him givin' 'em away by the bagful t' all the children down her way--repeated!”

”How sweet of him!” said Hermione, her red mouth all tender curves.

”Yes, but how did he live? How does he? How will he?”

”I don't know, dear; I only know I would trust him always--always!” And sitting back, chin in hand, Hermione fell again to happy thought.

”When he give up the nuts,” pursued Mrs. Trapes, draining the teapot and sighing, ”he tells me some fool tale of makin' a deal in real estate, an' I--ha, real estate!” Mrs. Trapes put down the teapot with a jerk.

”A deal in real estate!” she repeated, and thereafter fell to such unintelligible mutterings as ”Record price! Fab'lous! No, it couldn't be! An' yet--silk socks! 'On an' after above date all tenants soever residin'--will be re-dooced by fifty per cent!'” Suddenly Mrs. Trapes sat bolt upright. ”My land!” she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, ”oh, dear land o' my fathers--if sech could be!”

”Why, Ann,” exclaimed Hermione, roused from her reverie, ”whatever is the matter?”

”My dear,” said Mrs. Trapes, laying gentle hand on Hermione's blooming cheek, ”nothin'--nothin' 't all! I'm jest goin' over in my mind sich small matters as silk socks an' toothbrushes, that's all.”

”But you do mean something--you always do.”

”Well--if I do this time, my dear, I'm crazy--but the Bowkers have gone, mind that! An' him s' fond o' little Hazel!” Here Mrs. Trapes nodded almost triumphantly.

”The Bowkers? Why, yes--I've been wondering--”

”I guess you know he went t' O'Rourke's an' give that M'Ginnis the thras.h.i.+n' of his dirty life?” said Mrs. Trapes rather hastily. ”Nigh killed the loafer, Spider Connolly told me.”

”He's so strong,” said Hermione softly, her eyes s.h.i.+ning. ”But, Ann, what did you mean about--about toothbrushes and socks?”

”Mean? Why, socks an' toothbrushes, o' course. An' my land! here's me guzzlin' tea, an' over in my kitchen th' finest s.h.i.+n o' beef you ever saw a-b'ilin' f'r his supper. But now the question as burns is, if a married man this night, will he be here t' eat? An' if him--then you?

An' if man an' wife suppin' in my parlour--where will ye sleep?”