he three balls give you all that?"

"He did. Count it."

Laurie frowned.

"Don't be so arrogant about your wealth. It's fleeting. Any copy-book
will tell you so."

She opened a small drawer in the table, swept the bills into it, and
casually closed it. Laurie stared.

"Are you going to leave it there? Just like that?"

She looked patient.

"Why not?"

"I begin to understand why you are sometimes financially cramped."

He took the bills, smoothed them out flat, rolled back the rug to the
edge of the table, laid the money under it, and carefully replaced the
rug.

"That's the place to put it," he observed, with calm satisfaction. "No
one connected with a studio ever lifts a rug. Bangs and I used to throw
our money under the furniture, and pick it up as we needed it; but
others sometimes reached it first. This way is better. How lovely you
look!" he added. As he spoke he comfortably seated himself on the other
side of the reading-lamp, and moved the lamp to a point where it would
not obstruct his view of her.

She did look lovely. She had put on an evening gown, very simply made,
but rich in the Oriental coloring she loved. She was like Louise in
that. Laurie's thoughts swung to the latter's sick-room, and his
brilliant young face grew somber. The girl lounging in the big chair
observed the sudden change in his expression. She pushed a box of
cigarettes toward him.

"Smoke if you like," she said, indifferently. "All my friends do."

He caught the phrase. Then she had friends!

"Including Herbert Ransome Shaw?" he asked, as he lit a match.

"Don't include him among my friends! But--he was here this afternoon."

"He was!" In his rising interest Laurie nearly let the match go out.
"What did he want?"

"To warn me to have nothing to do with you."

"I like his infernal cheek!"

Laurie lit the cigarette and puffed at it savagely. Then, rising, he
drew his chair forward and sat down facing her.

"See here," he said quietly, "you'd better tell me the whole story. I
can't help you much if I'm kept in the dark. But if you'll let me into
things--And before I forget it," he interrupted himself to interject, "I
want to bring a friend of mine to call on you. She will be a tower of
strength. She's a Russian, and one of the best women I know."

She listened with a slight smile.

"What's her name?"

"Miss Orleneff, Sonya Orleneff, a great pal of my sister's and an
all-round good sort. I'd like to bring her in