or Oleander was certainly hard at work now. Perhaps her proud
grandfather was saved from turning over in his grave by the fact that
his male descendants were not inclined to work. Old Mr. Denton--Major
he was called by the boarders--had never been known to do a day's work
in his life and Miss Oleander had a brother, Braxton, who was occupied
only during the races.

"I should think your grandfather would be proud that you are so
capable," suggested Josie.

"Oh, not at all," sighed Miss Oleander. "Efficient women were not
considered ladylike in my grandfather's time--that is not efficient
enough to make a living. They could be good housekeepers and all." Miss
Denton always ended every sentence with "and all." It could mean
anything and nothing.

Josie felt she had found exactly the right place. She was sure that
Miss Oleander could tell her about the Wallers and Chester Hunt, and
what she didn't know Major Denton would. Josie had modified her
appearance somewhat, lengthened her skirts, discarded the strings of
beads, left off the paint and powder except for a becoming dash and put
away her lip-stick until she might have use for it. She still clung to
the bobbed henna wig with its permanent wave. That in itself completely
changed the appearance of the usually demure Josie.

"First I must get my bearings," she mused, as she settled herself in
the shabby hall bedroom, that had the one advantage of overlooking the
great and only Peachtree Street.

On a shelf in her room she found an old telephone book. Stephen
Waller's name and address were given. The house proved to be only three
doors from the Elberta Inn, which had been a private residence in
former years. By the telephone in the hall near Josie's door hung a
new, down-to-date book. She looked for Stephen Waller's name in it. It
was not there. She then looked for Chester Hunt's name. It was given
and the address was the same as Stephen Waller's had been.

"So he is living in the old home!" A picture of the children arose in
Josie's mind, their forlorn condition, ragged, worn clothes and hungry
eyes. Then she thought of the room at Mrs. Pete's where they had lived
before they had gone to the Children's Home and her mouth tightened.
"I'll show him a thing or two before I get through," she muttered.

Before dinner that evening she went out for a walk. She turned to the
left from Elberta Inn and sauntered along as though she had no object
in life, and from the vacant e