"Oh, has he?" Joan's eye kindled. It occurred to her that the young man's history might have some connection with the history of the house itself. "Ellen, I have it! It's the old family mansion, belonged to his father and grandfather and great-grandfather, and _of course_ he wants to go on living in it. I would myself!"
Ellen grinned. "If there's a romantical notion to be found, trust you for finding it. But if you really want to know, folks do say--" She hesitated, under the hallucination (which many virtuous women share) that she disliked to repeat gossip.
"Well, they do say that if he's got a father at all it's more than he knows, let alone a grandfather, and great-grandfather. I had it from a woman downstairs (her that curls feathers, and she got it straight from somebody who used to live in the neighborhood when this was a actors' boardin'-house), that he got left here when he was a little boy, by his mother, in hock for her board-bill. And she never come back for him."
Joan gave a gasp. "Oh," she cried. "Oh! poor woman!"
Ellen eyed her curiously. "Poor _woman_? I should think you'd say 'poor child'!"
"Poor both of them! But can't you see how much greater the tragedy must have been for the woman, who knew--who was to blame? Imagine how she must have dreamed of that pitiful little boy with his nose pressed against the window-pane watching for her--and she not able to come for him! Ellen--That's what he's doing here now! Waiting for his mother to come back!"
"If he is, I hope it's with a club in his hand," muttered the other angrily. "Why wasn't she 'able to come,' I'd like to know?"
"Perhaps she died. Or, she couldn't get enough money, or oh--oh, Ellen, don't you _see_? She didn't dare to come for him! He was getting too big, noticing things. For his own sake she had to give him up!" There were tears in Joan's eyes, ready to spill over.
Ellen paused and stared at her. "Well!" she said at last. "If I had your imagination, Joan Darcy, I'd go to a hospital and get it cut out. It ain't safe! Here you are blubbering over the troubles of a woman who maybe never lived, and probably was a bad lot if she did--and a'most making me blubber over her myself!"
Joan laughed and jumped up. "Here, let me help with the dishes. You wash and I'll wipe. But what a funny, pitiful little boy he must have been with those stick-out ears and those big, innocent-looking front teeth of his! I wonder why it is that big front teeth always do make a person look so innocent, Ellen?"