"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."