e to him; that he had got off a little of the sugar-coating
Harsanyi always put on his pupils.

"The art of making yourself agreeable never comes amiss, Miss Kronborg.
I should say you rather need a little practice along that line. When you
come to marketing your wares in the world, a little smoothness goes
farther than a great deal of talent sometimes. If you happen to be
cursed with a real talent, then you've got to be very smooth indeed, or
you'll never get your money back." Bowers snapped the elastic band
around his bank-book.

Thea gave him a sharp, recognizing glance. "Well, that's the money I'll
have to go without," she replied.

"Just what do you mean?"

"I mean the money people have to grin for. I used to know a railroad man
who said there was money in every profession that you couldn't take.
He'd tried a good many jobs," Thea added musingly; "perhaps he was too
particular about the kind he could take, for he never picked up much. He
was proud, but I liked him for that."

Bowers rose and closed his desk. "Mrs. Priest is late again. By the way,
Miss Kronborg, remember not to frown when you are playing for Mrs.
Priest. You did not remember yesterday."

"You mean when she hits a tone with her breath like that? Why do you let
her? You wouldn't let me."

"I certainly would not. But that is a mannerism of Mrs. Priest's. The
public like it, and they pay a great deal of money for the pleasure of
hearing her do it. There she is. Remember!"

Bowers opened the door of the reception-room and a tall, imposing woman
rustled in, bringing with her a glow of animation which pervaded the
room as if half a dozen persons, all talking gayly, had come in instead
of one. She was large, handsome, expansive, uncontrolled; one felt this
the moment she crossed the threshold. She shone with care and
cleanliness, mature vigor, unchallenged authority, gracious good-humor,
and absolute confidence in her person, her powers, her position, and her
way of life; a glowing, overwhelming self-satisfaction, only to be found
where human society is young and strong and without yesterdays. Her face
had a kind of heavy, thoughtless beauty, like a pink peony just at the
point of beginning to fade. Her brown hair was waved in front and done
up behind in a great twist, held by a tortoiseshell comb with gold
filigree. She wore a beautiful little green hat with three long green
feathers sticking straight up in front, a little cape made of velvet and