es to get
over. All the poets I have read about had a hard time at first. But
there will be friends to believe in you, many of them, who will wish you
success in your profession."

"If I could know there was one, at least," said John, his dark eyes
glowing.

Phyllis smiled at him. "There will be many," she repeated.

The Honorable Margaret joined them, having delivered her closing remarks
to her class; remarks somewhat pointed on the subject of noses and
handkerchiefs, but inclusive of cleanliness and godliness generally.

"Splendid place, isn't it, Phil?" she remarked with enthusiasm. "Did you
see the dispensary, and the nursery, and the gymnasium and the laundry,
and all around the shop?"

"Yes, I think we saw everything," replied Phyllis. "Mr. Landless has
explained it all in the most interesting way."

"Will you come again?" asked John, as he stood at the curb, while they
stepped into the Neville motor.

"She's sure to," replied the Honorable Margaret promptly. "Saint Ruth's
eats 'em alive. I came to scoff and remained to thread needles myself.
Phyllis will be minding the babies in a month,--eh, Phil?"

"I should love to come again," said Phyllis.

"To-morrow?" asked John.

"No," said the Honorable Margaret. "To-morrow's not my day. I come on
Thursday next."

"I think it _would_ be convenient for me to come to-morrow," said
Phyllis. "Perhaps that nice Mrs. Thorpe, to whom you introduced me,
could find something for me to do. I am afraid I shall have to be taught
how myself first, though."

"Great Scott!" cried the Honorable Margaret, leaning back in the car.
"Saint Ruth has made one mouthful of you."

"Good-bye, Mr. Landless. Thank you again," said Phyllis, extending a
cordial hand.

"Until to-morrow," said John.

He stood at the curb watching the receding car. When he reentered the
house, his smile lighted his face wonderfully.

"What do you think, Phyllis!" whispered the Honorable Margaret, her eye
on the chauffeur. "Mark Holroyd telephoned me at the Settlement. He told
me he needed bucking up a bit, and was coming to me to be comforted.
He's to be at the house at nine. Isn't he the dearest fellow?"

Phyllis opened her eyes wide; and then half closed them.

"He is one of the dearest, Peggy," she said softly.

III

"Lady Neville is a most estimable woman," observed Sir Peter, at
breakfast the next morning, "and your friend Margaret is a very nice
girl, as I have observed. But thes