“No, Miss Sadie. I was downtown and thought I would ask you to go to dinner with me. I went with you yesterday.”
“O-oo my! I don’t know,” said Sadie, shaking her head. “I bet you’d like to come home with me instead—no?”
“I would like to. But it would not be right for me to accept your hospitality and never return it,” said Helen.
“Chee! you must ’a’ had a legacy,” laughed Sadie.
“I—I have a little more money than I had yesterday,” admitted Helen, which was true, for she had taken some out of the wallet in the trunk before she left her uncle’s house.
“Well, when you swells feel like spendin’ there ain’t no stoppin’ youse, I suppose,” declared Sadie. “Do you wanter fly real high?”
“I guess we can afford a real nice dinner,” said Helen, smiling.
“Are you good for as high as thirty-fi’ cents apiece?” demanded Sadie.
“Yes.”
“Chee! Then I can take you to a stylish place where we can get a swell feed at noon, for that. It’s up on Grand Street. All the buyers and department store heads go there with the wholesale salesmen for lunch. Wait till I git me hat!” and away Sadie shot, up the tenement house stairs, so fast that her little feet, bound by the tight skirt she wore, seemed fairly to twinkle.