jumping at the chance of engaging him
as my social mentor at a somewhat exorbitant salary."

"And Grace?"

"Lady Powers is dining with me on Sunday night," Jacob announced. "Her
schemes seem to need a little further formulation."

Sybil bit her lip.

"You are very rude about my friends."

"I am not rude at all, and they are not your friends."

"Surely I know best about that?" she demanded haughtily.

"You do," he admitted, "and you know perfectly well that in your heart
you agree with me and they are not your friends. Every one of them is
more or less an adventurer, and how you found your way into such
company I can't imagine."

"When did Grace ask you to take her out to dinner?" she enquired
irrelevantly.

"Lady Powers has been kind enough to suggest it several times," he
replied. "She thinks that it would give me confidence to dance in
public."

"You have quite enough confidence," Sybil declared, with some
asperity, "and as a matter of fact you dance too well to need any more
lessons."

"Are you giving up teaching?" he asked.

"That depends."

"You really mean to continue your association with these people? Mind,
I am speaking advisedly concerning them. Mason and Hartwell are both
well-known about town. They are adventurers pure and simple and
absolutely improper associates for you."

"I can take care of myself," Sybil assured him indifferently.

"But you ought not to be seen with such a crowd," he objected.

"Why not? I haven't the slightest objection to being called an
adventuress. I want to make money, and so far as money is concerned,
I have no conscience. I am a hopelessly incompetent clerk or
secretary, and I am keeping the chorus for a last resource."

"Why should you be an incompetent secretary?" he demanded.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"I suppose I haven't the temperament for service. I was dismissed from
my first two situations for what they called impertinence, and I had
to leave the third because all three partners tried to kiss me. I
didn't mind one," she went on reflectively, "but with all three it
grew monotonous."

"Brutes!" Jacob exclaimed fiercely.

"Oh, no, they were quite nice about it," she declared. "It isn't that
I mind being kissed particularly, but I hate it to come into the two
pounds a week arrangement. Besides, there is another fatal objection
to my being able to keep any post as a typist."

"What is it?" he asked.

"I simply cannot wear the clothes," she c