"Well," Mrs. McGahn defended herself, "I can see yuh're decent, but I've got to be careful, an' yer comin' in on me this way Are y' all alone in N' York?"
"Yes. Mr. Gregg is the only friend I have here. We used to know each other at home."
"How old are yuh?"
"Nearly twenty."
"Yes? Well, now! Canadyens! I thought they was all Injuns up there!"
"Oh no," the girl laughed. "Not all of us."
"Have yuh been long in N' York?"
"Just a few days."
"Aw?" She turned to Don, twinkling. "Yuh're engaged, are yuh?"
He said "Yes," and then corrected himself hastily: "Oh no, no!"—blushing scarlet.
She glanced from one to the other with an illumined smile. "Yuh're a pair o' kids. Come along, girl, I'll show yuh the room."
Don was so confused by his slip of the tongue that he did not follow them, and they kept him waiting an unconscionably long time for their return; but when they came, Mrs. McGahn was blarneying and mothering the girl in a garrulous kindness, and Margaret had engaged the room. She and Don had to refuse an invitation to sit in the parlour and "chat a while." "Some other night, then," Mrs. McGahn said, following them to the door. "It's open to yuh any time yuh'll be wantin' in. He smokes in the kitchen when he's home at all, an' I'll not butt in meself. Don't
