to limit their expenditures.

At Mrs. Sherwood's urgent request, her husband was going into the
automobile business. A part of the money they had brought back from
Scotland had already been used in fitting up a handsome showroom and
garage on the main street of Tillbury; and some other heavy expenses had
fallen upon Mr. Sherwood, for which he would, however, be recompensed by
the sale of the first few cars.

If Ravell Bulson injured Mr. Sherwood's business reputation by his wild
charges, or if the company Mr. Sherwood expected to represent, heard of
the trouble, much harm might be done. The automobile manufacturing
company might even refuse to allow their cars to be handled by Mr.
Sherwood--which was quite within their rights, according to the contract
which had been signed between them.

Enough of this, however. Nan and Bess Harley were established with Grace
Mason, in Chicago, expecting to have a fine time. Nan tried to put all
home troubles off her mind.

The girls occupied a beautiful large suite together on the third floor,
with a bath all their own, and a maid to wait upon them. Grace was used
to this; but she was a very simple-minded girl, and the presence of a
tidy, be-aproned and be-capped maid not much older than herself, did not
particularly impress Grace one way or another.

"I feel like a queen," Bess confessed, luxuriously. "I can say: 'Do thus
and so,' and 'tis done. I might say: 'Off with his head!' if one of my
subjects displeased me, and he would be guillotined before you could
wink an eye."

"How horrid!" said Grace, the shy. "I never could feel that way."

"It would never do for Elizabeth to be a grand vizer, or sultan, or
satrap," Nan remarked laughingly.

"Who wants to be a 'shawl-strap'? Not I!" cried Bess, gaily. "I am Queen
Bess, monarch of all I survey. Katie!"--the neat little maid had just
entered the room--"will you hand me the book I was reading in the other
room? I'm too weak to rise. Oh, thanks!"

Grace laughed; but Nan looked a little grave as Katie disappeared again.

"Don't, honey," Nan said to her thoughtless chum. "It isn't _nice_. The
poor girl has necessary work enough without your making up thing's for
her to do. She is on her feet from morning till night. She tells me that
her ankles swell dreadfully sometimes, and that is awful for a young girl
like her."

"Why, Nan!" Grace cried, "how did you know?"

"Katie told me," repeated Nan.

"But--but she never told me,"