Just Around the Corner Part 62

"You poor little thing, you--shaking like a leaf! Lead the way; but not so fast, little lady--you'll give out."

She cried and laughed her relief and dragged him across the sidewalk; and every step up the two flights she struggled to keep her hysterical voice within the veil of a whisper.

"Just say everythin' right after me. You--you're my young man and real sweet on me; and we're going to get--you know; everythin' is goin' to be fine, and my little brother's going to the Electric Inst.i.tute, and everythin's goin' to be swell. Be right lovin' to her, sir--she's so sick. Oh, Gawd, I--"

"Don't cry, little girl."

"I ain't cryin'."

"Careful; don't stumble."

"Don't _you_ stumble. Can you see? The landing's so dark."

"Yes; I can see by the shine of your hair, little lady."

"'Sh-h-h-h!"

The door stood open at the angle she had left it, and by proxy of the slab of mirror over the mantelpiece she could see her mother's head propped against her brother's gold-braided shoulder, and the bright eyes shining out like a gazelle's in the dark.

"Essie?"

"We are here, ma--me and Joe." She threw a last appeal over her shoulder and led the way into the bedroom; her companion followed, stooping to accommodate his height to the doorway.

"Ma dearie, this is Joe."

"Joe! It ain't like me, Joe, not to get up; but I just ain't got the strength--to-night, Joe."

He bent his six-feet-two over the bed and smiled at her from close range.

"Well, well, well! So this is ma dear, dearie?"

"That's her, Joe."

"This won't do one bit, ma. Me and the little lady's got to get you cured up in a hurry--don't we, little lady?"

"Ma dearie, Joe's been wantin' and wantin' to come for so long."

[Ill.u.s.tration: SHE HELD UP A HAND AS LIGHT AS A LEAF, AND HE TOOK IT IN A WIDE, GENTLE CLASP THAT ENVELOPED IT]

"For so long I been wantin' to come, ma dearie; but--"

"But he's so bashful. Ain't you, Joe? Bashful as a banshee."

"Bashful ain't no name for me, ma. I'd shy at a baby."

"Honest, ma dearie, he's as shy as anything."

"If I wasn't, wouldn't I have been up to see my little lady's mother long ago--wouldn't I? Ain't you going to shake hands with me, ma dearie?"

She held up a hand as light as a leaf, and he took it in a wide, gentle clasp that enveloped it.

"Ma dearie!"

Her violet lids fluttered, and she lay back from the gold-braided shoulder to her pillow, but smiling.

"I like your hand, Joe; I like it."

"I want you to, ma."

"We--I was afraid, Joe, I wouldn't, you never comin' at all. Shake it, Jimmie, and see."

"Aw!"

"It's a strong hand, like your papa's was, Essie. Shake it, Jimmie. I feel just like cryin', it's so good. Shake it, Jimmie."

Across the chasm of youth's prejudice Jimmie held out a reluctant hand.

"And this is the big brother, is it, little lady?"

"That's what he calls hisself, Joe--he calls me his little sister."

"He's gotta be a big brother to her, Joe; she's so--so little."

"Shake, old man; and take off that grouch. Over where I live a fellow'd be fined ten cents for that scowl. If we got anything to square, you and me'll square it outside after school. What do you say to that, ma dearie? Ain't it right?"

"Jimmie's tired out, Joe."

"Like fun I am!"

"He's been proppin' me up all these hours so I could breathe easier--plunkin' and doin' all his funny kid stunts for his old ma, Essie--plunkin' like a banjo, and plunkin'. I liked it. Sometimes it was like I was floatin' in a skiff with your papa on Sunday afternoons in the park, Essie. I liked it. He's all tired out--ain't you, Jimmie, my boy?"

"Naw!"

"He's sore at his sister, Joe. But he's a good boy and _smart_; you wouldn't believe it, Joe, but when it comes to mechanics he--he's just grand."

"Aw, cut it, ma! I ain't strikin' to make a hit."

"He's only tired, Joe, and don't mean nothin' he says."

"Naw; I'm only tryin' my voice out for grand opery!"

"You're a regular sorehead with me, ain't you, old man?"

"Aw!"

"He ain't easy at makin' up with strangers, Joe; but he's a smart one.

See that on the table? That's his self-chargin' dynamo; it's a great invention, Joe, the janitor says. You tell him about it, Jimmie."

"There ain't nothin' to tell."