hat last item had been missing, for whoever
heard of a girl who set out to make her own living who had not slept in
a room with a sloping roof? On the whole, despite its tiny proportions,
the little room made a pleasant impression. It was clean, it was
bright, walls and furniture were alike of a plain unrelieved white, and
through the open casement window could be seen a distant slope of green
overtopping the intervening chimney tops. Claire's eyes roved here and
there with the instinct of a born home-maker, saw what was lacking here,
what was superfluous there, grasped neglected possibilities, and
mentally re-arranged and decorated the premises before a slower person
would have crossed the floor.

Then she took up her stand before the small mirror, and devoted a whole
minute to studying her own reflection from the point of view of Captain
Erskine Fanshawe of unknown address. By her own deliberate choice she
had cut herself off from future chance of meeting this acquaintance of
an hour; nevertheless it was distinctly reviving to discern that her hat
was set at precisely the right angle, and that for an all-night voyager
her whole appearance was remarkably fresh and dainty.

Claire first smiled, and then sighed, and pulled out the hat-pins with
impatient tugs. To be prudent and self-denying is not always an
exhilarating process for sweet and twenty.

Presently the maid came staggering upstairs with the smaller boxes, and
Claire busied herself in her room until the clock had struck eight, when
she again descended to the joint sitting-room. This time the fire was
lighted, and the table laid for breakfast, and behind the tea-tray sat
Miss Rhodes, the English mistress, already halfway through her meal.
She rose, half smiling, half frowning, and held out a thin hand in
welcome.

"Morning. Hope you've had a good crossing. Didn't know when you'd be
down. Do you take coffee?"

"Please!" Claire felt that a cup of coffee would be just what she
needed, but missed the familiar fragrant scent. She seated herself at
the table, and while Miss Rhodes went on with her preparation, studied
her with curious eyes.

She saw a woman of thirty-two or three, with well-cut features, dark
eyes, and abundant dark hair--a woman who ought to have been distinctly
good-looking but who succeeded in being plain and commonplace. She was
badly-dressed, in a utility blouse of grey flannel, her expression was
tired and listless, and her h