panion smiled significantly, but he did not notice it.
Evidently he was unlike most of the gentlemen she had seen in the West
End. Yet he certainly was a gentleman. He took them to a small
restaurant when Nelly had answered all his questions, and they dined
sumptuously, or so it seemed to them, and he sat by them and told
stories, and entertained them generally all the way home.

"I shall go down the river next Sunday," he said low to Nelly as they
landed. "Do you like to row? If you do, come to Chelsea to the Bridge,
and we will try it from there."

This was the beginning, and for many weeks it meant simply that he
pleased his aesthetic sense, as well as convinced himself that he was
doing a good and righteous deed in making life brighter for an East End
toiler. He had given her the premium, and Nelly, without any actual lie,
had convinced her mother that the West End milliner was willing to take
her for only two months of time given, and then begin wages. She brought
out her own little fund, swollen by several shillings taken from one of
the sovereigns given her, and proved that there was enough here to keep
them till she began to earn wages again; and Mrs. Judkins allowed
herself at last to be persuaded, feeling that a chance had come for the
girl which must not be allowed to pass.

So Nelly's apprenticeship began. There was less rose-color than she had
imagined. The hours were long, longer sometimes than her stitching had
been, and many of the girls looked at her jealously. But Maria, her
first friend, remained her friend. The two sat side by side, and Nelly
caught the knack by instinct almost, and even in the first week or two
caught a smile from Madame, who paused to consider the twist of a bow,
quite Parisian in its effect, and said to herself that here was a hand
who would prove valuable.

Nelly went home triumphant that night, and even her mother's sour face
relaxed. She had taken up trouser-stitching again, forcing Jim to mind
the shop, and saying to herself that the family fortunes were going to
mend, and that Nelly would do it. Sundays were always free. Nobody
questioned the girl. The young men in the Buildings and the street gave
up pursuit. Plainly Nelly was not for them, but had found her proper
place in the West End. They bowed sarcastically, and said, "'Ow's your
Royal 'Ighness?" when they met; but Nelly hardly heeded them. The long
wish had taken shape at last,--she was going to be a lady.

Summer