d went out.

"There goes Lilian Mitchell," said Mrs. Reeves in an undertone. "She
looks very pale. They say they are dreadfully poor since Henry
Mitchell died. His affairs were in a bad condition, I am told."

"I am sorry for Mrs. Mitchell," responded Mrs. Saunders. "She is such
a sweet woman. Lilian will have to do something, I suppose, and there
is so little chance for a girl here."

Lilian, walking down the street, was wearily turning over in her mind
the problems of her young existence. Her father had died the preceding
spring. He had been a supposedly prosperous merchant; the Mitchells
had always lived well, and Lilian was a petted and only child. Then
came the shock of Henry Mitchell's sudden death and of financial ruin.
His affairs were found to be hopelessly involved; when all the debts
were paid there was left only the merest pittance--barely enough for
house-rent--for Lilian and her mother to live upon. They had moved
into a tiny cottage in an unfashionable locality, and during the
summer Lilian had tried hard to think of something to do. Mrs.
Mitchell was a delicate woman, and the burden of their situation fell
on Lilian's young shoulders.

There seemed to be no place for her. She could not teach and had no
particular talent in any line. There was no opening for her in
Willington, which was a rather sleepy little place, and Lilian was
almost in despair.

"There really doesn't seem to be any real place in the world for me,
Mother," she said rather dolefully at the supper table. "I've no
talent at all; it is dreadful to have been born without one. And yet I
_must_ do something, and do it soon."

And Lilian, after she had washed up the tea dishes, went upstairs and
had a good cry.

But the darkest hour, so the proverb goes, is just before the dawn,
and after Lilian had had her cry out and was sitting at her window in
the dusk, watching a thin new moon shining over the trees down the
street, her inspiration came to her. A minute later she whirled into
the tiny sitting-room where her mother was sewing.

"Mother, our fortune is made! I have an idea!"

"Don't lose it, then," said Mrs. Mitchell with a smile. "What is it,
my dear?"

Lilian sobered herself, sat down by her mother's side, and proceeded
to recount the conversation she had heard in the store that afternoon.

"Now, Mother, this is where my brilliant idea comes in. You have often
told me I am a born cook and I always have good luck. Now, tomor