I can get along very well without it...."

When Nellie Whitehead rose to leave, dusk had fallen and Claire was
fumbling for matches to light the hall gas, when she felt her friend's
hand close over hers. There followed the cold pressure of several coins
against Claire's palm and the voice of her visitor sounding a bit
tremulous in the dusk.

"You'll need some extra money, Robson, or I miss my guess."

Claire fell back with a gesture of protest. "Why, Nellie Whitehead, how
could you? It's your coat money, too! Well, _I_ never!"

And with that they both burst into tears.... When Claire recovered
herself she found that Nellie Whitehead had escaped. She lit the gas
and opened her palm. Four twenty-dollar gold pieces glistened in the
light.

* * * * *

Next morning Claire received a telephone message from Mrs. Condor. The
position of accompanist was hers at forty dollars a month if she desired
it.

"It won't be hard," Mrs. Condor had finished, reassuringly. "Some weeks
I've something on nearly every night. And then again there won't be
anything doing for days.... How can I afford to pay so much? Well, my
dear, that is a secret. But don't worry, you'll earn it...."

And toward the close of the week there came another surprise for Claire
in the shape of a letter from Stillman, which ran:

MY DEAR MISS ROBSON.--I am going to take a little flier at the bean
market.

That was my father's business and I know a few things about it--at
least to the extent of recognizing the commodity when the sack is
opened. Do you fancy you could arrange to give me a few hours a week
at the typewriter? If so, we can get together and arrange terms.

Cordially,

EDWARD STILLMAN.

"At last," flashed through Claire's mind, "he's going in for something
worth while."

This time she decided promptly. Over the telephone she made an
appointment with Stillman, in his apartments, for beginning work on the
second Wednesday in January.

CHAPTER XI

Shortly after the first of the year Claire received her initial summons
from Lily Condor--they were to appear at a concert in the Colonial
Ballroom of the St. Francis for the Belgian relief. Mrs. Condor had
intimated that the affair was to be smart, and so it proved. It was set
at a very late and very fashionable hour, and all through the program
groups of torpid, though rather audible, diners kept drifting in. Claire
was n