to divest
herself of the alluring green apron. She was so evidently used to
admiration that her smooth cheek showed no change of color, though the
panic red of swift confusion flamed on Patricia's bright face.

Pinning on her hat hastily, she fled after Elinor, feeling that she
must seem most inexperienced and childish in the eyes of this
fascinating creature who at once had eclipsed all previous claimants to
her admiration.

"I wonder if she is in the modeling class?" she said as she caught up
with Elinor in the composition room. "I don't suppose there's any such
luck as that. She looks too clean----"

Elinor interrupted her with a little shake. "You hopeless little
goose," she said, in laughing despair. "You've just promised me not
to, and here you are it, hammer and tongs, under my very eyes."

"My word!" cried Patricia indignantly. "You don't mean I'm not to look
at anyone! I can't even express a little tame approval without your
accusing me of grabbing a new soul mate. You can't say she isn't
simply ravishing, and just because she's alive instead of being a
picture or statue or some such _made-up_ thing, you want me to turn up
my nose at her. I must say you are getting to be awfully extreme,
Elinor Kendall. You'll want me to wear a muzzle next."

Elinor gave her a loving look, and Patricia, appropriating a corner of
her big muff, gave her hand a surreptitious squeeze.

"I wish I could kiss you, you old angel," she said, irrelevantly.
"Let's lay in our pemmican, and hustle back for a seat in the parquet
circle. I'm dying to look them over and see who's who and what's what
before I make any more breaks."

CHAPTER II

GETTING ACQUAINTED

"Why, it's like a laundry," exclaimed Patricia in disappointment as she
looked about her. The low-ceiled whitewashed apartment into which they
had descended from the winding iron stair was sepulchrally bare and
empty in the flicker of its noisy gas jets, the rusty gas stoves at its
farther end emphasizing its general air of desolation.

Elinor glanced beyond, through the low doorway to the next room.

"Suppose we do without hot things today?" she proposed. "The tables
look pretty full in there. We mightn't get a place if we delay too
long."

"Suits me to a gnat's heel," declared Patricia eagerly. "Food is a
secondary article, anyway, when it comes to character study. I'm not
so keen on cookery since I sighted this tasteful apartment."

She follo