never were on land or sea. Then,
at last, after a world of anticipation, came her first installment of
one hundred and fifty dollars.

It was paid to her in greenbacks--three twenties, six tens, and six
fives. Thus collected it made a very convenient roll. It was accompanied
by a smile and a salutation from the cashier who paid it.

"Ah, yes," said the latter, when she applied; "Miss Madenda--one hundred
and fifty dollars. Quite a success the show seems to have made."

"Yes, indeed," returned Carrie.

Right after came one of the insignificant members of the company, and
she heard the changed tone of address.

"How much?" said the same cashier, sharply. One, such as she had only
recently been, was waiting for her modest salary. It took her back to
the few weeks in which she had collected--or rather had received--almost
with the air of a domestic, four-fifty per week from a lordly foreman in
a shoe factory--a man who, in distributing the envelopes, had the manner
of a prince doling out favours to a servile group of petitioners. She
knew that out in Chicago this very day the same factory chamber was full
of poor homely-clad girls working in long lines at clattering machines;
that at noon they would eat a miserable lunch in a half-hour; that
Saturday they would gather, as they had when she was one of them, and
accept the small pay for work a hundred times harder than she was now
doing. Oh, it was so easy now! The world was so rosy and bright. She
felt so thrilled that she must needs walk back to the hotel to think,
wondering what she should do.

It does not take money long to make plain its impotence, providing the
desires are in the realm of affection. With her one hundred and fifty in
hand, Carrie could think of nothing particularly to do. In itself, as a
tangible, apparent thing which she could touch and look upon, it was a
diverting thing for a few days, but this soon passed. Her hotel bill
did not require its use. Her clothes had for some time been wholly
satisfactory. Another day or two and she would receive another hundred
and fifty. It began to appear as if this were not so startlingly
necessary to maintain her present state. If she wanted to do anything
better or move higher she must have more--a great deal more.

Now a critic called to get up one of those tinsel interviews which shine
with clever observations, show up the wit of critics, display the folly
of celebrities, and divert the public. He liked Carr