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| Pussy This consideration had not entered in before, and it did not now for long affect the glow of Carrie's enthusiasm. Disposed as she then was to calculate upon that vague basis which allows the subtraction of one sum from another without any perceptible diminution, she was happy. When Hanson came home at seven o'clock, he was inclined to be a little crusty- his usual demeanour before supper. Ah! said Phoebe with a malicious smile, 49 you don't like being ordered about by poor servants, do you? This never showed so much in Tight Pussy anything he said as in a certain solemnity of countenance and the silent manner in which he slopped about. He had a pair of yellow carpet slippers which he enjoyed wearing, and these he would immediately substitute for his solid pair of shoes. This, and washing his face with the aid of common washing soap until it glowed a shiny red, constituted his only preparation for his evening meal. He would then get his evening paper and read in silence.  For a young man, this was rather a morbid turn of character, and so affected Carrie. Indeed, it affected the entire atmosphere of the flat, as such things are inclined to do, and gave to his wife's mind its subdued and tactful turn, anxious to avoid taciturn replies. Under the influence of Carrie's announcement he brightened up somewhat. "You didn't lose any time, did you?" he remarked, smiling a little. "No," returned Carrie with a touch of pride. He asked her one or two more Tight Pussy questions and then turned to play with the Tight Pussy baby, leaving the subject until it was brought up again by Minnie at the table. Carrie, however, was not to be reduced to the common level of observation which prevailed in the flat. "It seems to be such a large company," she said at one place. "Great big plate-glass windows and lots of clerks. The man I saw said they hired ever so many people. You are a very important person, I suppose, she went on jeering at me, with a great career in Parliament! "You ought not to be melancholy," he said. He thought a while, and then went off into a seemingly alien observation which, however, accorded with their feelings. "The world is full of desirable situations, but, unfortunately, we can occupy but one at a time. It doesn't do us any good to wring our hands over the far-off things. "It's not very hard to get work now," put in Tight Pussy Hanson, "if you look right." Minnie, under the warming influence of Carrie's good spirits and her husband's somewhat conversational mood, began to tell Carrie of some of the well-known things to see- things the enjoyment of which cost nothing. "You'd like to see Michigan Avenue. There are such fine houses. It is such a fine street." "Where is 'H. R. Jacob's'?" interrupted Carrie, mentioning one of the theatres devoted to melodrama which went by that name at the 
time. "Oh, it's not very far from Tight Pussy here," answered Minnie. "It's in Halstead Street, right up here." "How I'd like to go there. I crossed Halstead Street to-day, didn't I?" At this there was a slight halt in the natural reply. Thoughts are a strangely permeating factor. At her suggestion of going to the theatre, the unspoken shade of disapproval to the doing of those things which involved the expenditure of money- shades of feeling which arose in the mind of Hanson and then in Minnie- slightly tightpussy affected the atmosphere of the table. Minnie Tight Pussy answered "yes," but Carrie could feel that going Tight Pussy to the theatre was poorly advocated here. The subject was put off for a little while until Hanson, through with his meal, took his paper and went into the front room. When they were alone, the two sisters began a somewhat freer conversation, Carrie interrupting it to hum a little, as they worked at the dishes. "I should like to walk up and see Halstead Street, if it isn't too far," said Carrie, after a time. "Why don't Tight Pussy we go to the theatre to-night?" "Oh, I don't think Sven would want to go to-night," returned Minnie. "He has to get up so early." "He wouldn't mind- he'd enjoy it," said Carrie. "No, he doesn't go very often," returned Minnie. "Well, I'd like to go," rejoined Carrie. "Let's you and me go." Minnie pondered a while, not upon whether she could or would go- for that point was already negatively settled with her- but upon some means of diverting the Tight Pussy thoughts of her sister to some other topic. "We'll go some other time," she said at last, finding no ready means of escape. Carrie sensed the root of the opposition at once. "I have some money," she said. "You go with me." Minnie shook her head. "He could go along," said Carrie. "No," returned Minnie softly, and rattling the dishes to drown the conversation. "He wouldn't." It had been several years since Minnie had seen Carrie, and in that time that latter's character had developed tightpussy a few shades. I obeyed. How humiliating it was! |
