"Oh, one of the elevator men."

"B--but--" Gray sputtered, deeply shocked. "Why, Miss Briskow,
they're _negroes!_ Riding with a nigger! My heavens! Where did you
go?"

"Nowhere. Just up and down."

It was a moment before the man could speak, then he said, in a
queerly repressed voice: "That--is quite different. I'll run down
and get a bite and join you in no time."

"Seems awful funny not to have any housework to do in the
morning," Ma Briskow confessed, as they left the Ajax. "A hotel
would spoil me in no time."

"I couldn't keep her from makin' up the beds," Allie announced.

Gray took the elder woman's hand in his and scolded her gently.
Smilingly, he lectured her on the art of doing nothing, and voiced
some elemental truths about living.

"Mr. Briskow has but one idea, and that is to surround you two,
and Buddy, with the advantages and luxuries you have been denied,"
he reminded her. "You owe it to him to get the most out of your
money, and you mustn't begin by making hotel beds and robbing some
poor woman of her livelihood. Not one person in ten really knows how
to live, for it isn't an easy task, and the saddest thing about the
newly rich is that they won't learn. They refuse to enjoy their