gave her no chance.

"You can come to-day or to-morrow--the earlier the better--and we will
give you your choice of nice, light, outside rooms--the very best we
have."

"You're very kind," said Carrie, touched by the agent's extreme
affability. "I should like to come very much. I would want to pay what
is right, however. I shouldn't want to----"

"You need not trouble about that at all," interrupted Mr. Withers.
"We can arrange that to your entire satisfaction at any time. If three
dollars a day is satisfactory to you, it will be so to us. All you have
to do is to pay that sum to the clerk at the end of the week or month,
just as you wish, and he will give you a receipt for what the rooms
would cost if charged for at our regular rates."

The speaker paused.

"Suppose you come and look at the rooms," he added.

"I'd be glad to," said Carrie, "but I have a rehearsal this morning."

"I did not mean at once," he returned. "Any time will do. Would this
afternoon be inconvenient?"

"Not at all," said Carrie.

Suddenly she remembered Lola, who was out at the time.

"I have a room-mate," she added, "who will have to go wherever I do. I
forgot about that."

"Oh, very well," said Mr. Withers, blandly. "It is for you to say whom
you want with you. As I say, all that can be arranged to suit yourself."

He bowed and backed toward the door.

"At four, then, we may expect you?"

"Yes," said Carrie.

"I will be there to show you," and so Mr. Withers withdrew.

After rehearsal Carrie informed Lola. "Did they really?" exclaimed the
latter, thinking of the Wellington as a group of managers. "Isn't that
fine? Oh, jolly! It's so swell. That's where we dined that night we went
with those two Cushing boys. Don't you know?"

"I remember," said Carrie.

"Oh, it's as fine as it can be."

"We'd better be going up there," observed Carrie later in the afternoon.

The rooms which Mr. Withers displayed to Carrie and Lola were three and
bath--a suite on the parlour floor. They were done in chocolate and dark
red, with rugs and hangings to match. Three windows looked down into
busy Broadway on the east, three into a side street which crossed there.
There were two lovely bedrooms, set with brass and white enamel beds,
white ribbon-trimmed chairs and chiffoniers to match. In the third room,
or parlour, was a piano, a heavy piano lamp, with a shade of gorgeous
pattern, a library table, several huge easy rockers, some dado book
s