"The newest janitor, mother," amended Happie. "He's only this January's janitor. That was the new one who departed after the Christmas harvest. Don't you remember?"
Bob groaned. "Are we likely to forget it, Happie?" he demanded. "When I denied myself ties and books I wanted in order to pay him tribute in a good-sized Christmas gift? And I'm sure he scorned it, because he told me what fine, rich, generous people all the other tenants were. And then he went off, and as an investment to secure us comfort my rare five dollar bill yielded nothing."
Mrs. Scollard laughed. "Janitors are sadly demoralizing to the spirit of generosity," she said. "Margery and Happie, you are letting Gretta wash the breakfast dishes with only Polly to help. Laura, you agreed to make beds if you might be excused from dishwashing."
The girls scattered at this hint. Even Laura, the reluctant, never needed a second bidding from her mother.
After a little while the bell rang, somewhat to the consternation of the belated Scollard family. But when Penny opened the door her gurgle of laughter brought her seniors, confident that no very formidable visitors had arrived. Bob took by the coat collar one of the two who had come, crying, "Come in here, you Peary, you! What do you mean by ringing the bell and giving me nervous prostration?"
The callers were Ralph and Snigs, each in a heavy overcoat with the collar turned up, a hat pulled far over his face, a scarf wound time and again around his head, gloves on, boots with trousers tucked into them, and a thick veil protecting his complexion from the winds roaring outside of the narrow hall which the boys had to cross to reach the opposite flat. Snigs bore Whoop-la, their tiger cat, and Ralph was the spokesman for this arctic-looking trio.
"Please, kind ladies, our mother is gone to see a sick friend—we think she may come home sicker than the friend was, owing to the weather! We thought we would blow in on you for shelter—the wind's on our side, and we feel tremulous-spined. Will you please let us sit by your gilt radiator, if you haven't a hearthstone?" he pleaded.
"You shall share the warmth of our gilt radiators and have a gilt-edged welcome, you raving lunatics!" Bob replied for his family. "Get out of these trappings of woe, and tell us if you ever saw a windier, grayer, meaner day in all your lives."
"I had thought so," returned Ralph, letting Bob hold his great-coat while he dropped out of it, "but now I am not sure." He bowed low to Happie, just coming in, the depth of the bow increased by the sudden removal of the weighty coat. "Across the hall we are not Happie—we have not—we need to be Happie—— Say, what do you mean by having a name that leads a fellow into the dandiest kind of a compliment, and then goes back on him?" he demanded. "I thought that was coming out a regular top-notcher of a poetical speech, and look at it!"
Happie laughed. "I didn't choose my name, Ralph, and you can't blame me for its failing you. It was bright of you to come over here on this dreary day, even if you can't make bright and flattering speeches. When the wind blows like this I'm always frightened and lonesome feeling. Look at Dorée and Whoop-la! For the first time they touched noses," cried Happie.