a trump, girl. Come along. Drive me home, now. Sure I'm an ol' fool." She had suddenly been overtaken in her turn by the usual desire to weep. "I s'pose Dan 'll be growlin' fer his grub like a bear with a sore ear. Yuh're young yet. God give yuh happiness. Yuh'll be good to her, Mr. Gregg, now. She's give yuh all she's got."
She crammed with good advice the few minutes of the drive back to her home; and she kissed Margaret at the cab-door, and ran upstairs for the girl's valise—which she had packed ready—and kissed her again when she came back with it. When she saw that Don had not his bag, she lost her tender emotion in the scolding haste of helping him to get it. By this time her husband was at the door and all the lodgers were in the windows; and when Pittsey at last got the cab under way, she threw an old slipper after them, and hit one of the gaping street-children on the head with it. They escaped while she was trying to comfort the injured youngster.
"A worthy woman," Pittsey said. "Next to a wake, they do enjoy a wedding. Where am I taking you now?"
They did not know. Don explained, rather uncertainly, that he had not made any arrangements of any sort. "Mrs. McGahn"
"Enough said," Pittsey interrupted. "Let me dispose of you. Your cousin has divorced me—for a handsomer girl—and I have a flat on my hands. I'm giving up housekeeping, and I'll sell the outfit. Or if you don't want to buy, I'll give it to you. Anyway, take it for the time being, until you find a better place. I'm going to join Walt. You get your suppers, and
