"Wait!" said Jack. "You must introduce me as Mr. Robinson."
Kate frowned. "Must? To Mother? I can't do that."
But at that moment the old lady walked in.
She was a dear little old lady, the old-fashioned kind of mother, quite rare in a New York flat. She wore a black silk dress many times turned and white at the seams, and a little cap which was never quite straight, giving her a lovable, rakish expression.
Jack looked appealingly at Kate, who hesitated and gulped. "Mother, this--this is Mr. Robinson," she said.
"How do you do, Mr. Robinson," said Mrs. Storer in a voice like a little girl's. She affected to take no notice of Jack's grandeur though it must surely have been a notable sight in that poor little room. "I have not heard Katherine speak of you. Where did you meet Mr. Robinson, Katherine?"
"Mr. Robinson was--was formerly in our office," said poor Kate.
The little old lady made polite conversation for five minutes, and then having established the proprieties, like a thoroughbred mother, she made a transparent excuse to disappear and was seen no more.
Through the open window came the sounds of a violent, vulgar altercation from the flat below. Kate closed the window with an oblivious air.
"I expect you've had an exciting day," she said. "What did the papers mean by saying that you were fat, and that you had a good-looking secretary to whom you turned for everything?"
"I'm the good-looking one," said Jack, grinning.
"I'll explain in a minute, but first----"
"_Please!_" she said with an admonishing gesture.
"Kitty, I can't help it! I can't play up to you. If you knew how it hurt to find you living in such a place----"
"We don't have to live here," she said with quick pride. "We're saving our money so we can go abroad."
"That's not true. I know how much they pay in the sort of place where you work, and how much it costs to live. I have been through the mill. It takes every cent you earn to keep up this place. And you're always thinking, what would you do if you got sick or were without a job, even for a week. That's what makes that little line between your dear eyes."
Kate laughed delicately. "Mercy, you're quite a mind-reader!"
Jack floundered on. "And me with all this rotten money! Every cent I spend shames me, thinking of you here--and your mother."