t of the proceeding. It was a real joy to her to have
disbursed eighteen shillings, when only six were necessary, for to a
woman who has escaped the miser taint, the mere action of spending has a
lure, and Mary had counted pennies all her life. She sat staring out of
the dusty windows, wondering even at this eleventh hour where she should
go when she reached her destination. The question was not solved, when
she found herself seated in a taxi, with the driver's head peering
through the window, awaiting instructions.

"Could you--I want to go to an hotel, a _good_ hotel. It must be very
good, but not--not too fashionable," said Mary, with a blush, and the
kindly Cockney ran a twinkling glance over her attire, and took in the
position in a trice.

"You leave it to me, ma'am. I'll fix you up," he said genially, and
sprang to his wheel. "Northumberland Avenue's _her_ touch," he said to
himself with a grin, and presently Mary was alighting before a great,
gloomy-looking building, and entering a hall which to her inexperienced
eyes seemed alarmingly large and luxurious. There were groups of people
sitting here and there, who had apparently no other occupation but to
stare at new-comers; but after the most cursory glance no one stared at
Mary. The fashionably attired women averted their eyes with an air of
having wasted trouble for nothing.

At the office, the clerk gave the same quick scrutiny, and saw a chance
of letting an unpopular room. He rang a bell, gave instructions to an
underling, and Mary mounted in a lift to inspect a grim, box-like
apartment, papered in yellow, from which the nearness of a neighbouring
building excluded every ray of sun. The smart chambermaid played her
part with skill, throwing open the wardrobe, and arranging towels on the
stand with a confidence which froze Mary's objections unsaid. Perhaps,
after all, there was nothing to say; perhaps all hotel bedrooms were
alike!

Mary washed her hands, smoothed her already smooth hair, and betook
herself to the great dining-hall where luncheon was in process. The
room was more than half filled, and the waiter led the way to a table
some distance from the door, a dreaded ordeal on which Mary wasted much
unnecessary nervousness. Despite her experience in the hall, she still
dreaded the scrutiny of strange eyes, and in imagination felt herself
the observed of all observers. A strange figure in Chumley High Street
attracted general curiosity;