Or I could see the grey flicker of the pongee skirt in the twilight distance of cathedral aisles with a chant sounding from a chapel; and, so dreaming, I would start spasmodically, to hear the red-coated orchestra of a cafe' blare out into "Bedelia," and awake to the laughter and rouge and blague which that dear pongee had helped me for a moment to forget! To all places, Poor Jr., though never unkindly, dragged me with him, even to make the balloon ascent at the Porte Maillot on a windy evening.
Without embarrassment I confess that I was terrified, that I clung to the ropes with a clutch which frayed my gloves, while Poor Jr.

leaned back against the side of the basket and gazed upward at the great swaying ball, with his hands in his pockets, humming the strange ballad that was his favourite musical composition: "The prettiest girl I ever saw Was sipping cider through a straw-aw-haw!" In that horrifying basket, scrambling for a foothold while it swung through arcs that were gulfs, I believed that my sorrows approached a sudden conclusion, but finding myself again upon the secure earth, I decided to come to an understanding with the young man.
Accordingly, on the following morning, I entered his apartment and addresses myself to Poor Jr.

as severely as I could (for, truthfully, in all his follies I had found no ugliness in his spirit--only a good-natured and inscrutable desire of wild amusement) reminding him of the authority his father had deputed to me, and having the venturesomeness to hint that the son should show some respect to my superior age.
To my consternation he replied by inquiring if I had shaved my head as yet that morning.

I could only drop in a chair, stammering to know what he meant.
"Didn't you suppose I knew ?" he asked, elevating himself slightly on his elbow from the pillow.

"Three weeks ago I left my aged parent in London and ran over here for a day.