"And never will," replied Mrs. Belloc. "When he dies I'll come into a
little more--about a hundred and fifty a week in all. Not a fortune,
but enough with what the boarding-house brings in. I'm a pretty fair
business woman."

"I should say so!" exclaimed Mildred.

"You said you were Miss Stevens, didn't you?" said Mrs. Belloc--and
Mildred knew that her turn had come.

"Yes," replied she. "But I am also a married woman." She hesitated,
reddened. "I didn't give you my married name."

"That's your own business," said Mrs. Belloc in her easiest manner. "My
right name isn't Belloc, either. But I've dropped that other life. You
needn't feel a bit embarrassed in this house. Some of my boarders SEEM
to be married. All that have regular-appearing husbands SAY they are.
What do I care, so long as everything goes along smoothly? I don't get
excited about trifles."

"Some day perhaps I'll tell you about myself," said Mildred. "Just at
present I--well, I seem not to be able to talk about things."

"It's not a bad idea to keep your mouth shut, as long as your affairs
are unsettled," advised Mrs. Belloc. "I can see you've had little
experience. But you'll come out all right. Just keep cool, and don't
fret about trifles. And don't let any man make a fool of you. That's
where we women get left. We're afraid of men. We needn't be. We can
mighty easily make them afraid of us. Use the soft hand till you get
him well in your grip. Then the firm hand. Nothing coarse or cruel or
mean. But firm and self-respecting."

Mildred was tempted to take Mrs. Belloc fully into her confidence and
get the benefit of the advice of shrewdness and experience. So strong
was the temptation, she would have yielded to it had Mrs. Belloc asked
a few tactful, penetrating questions. But Mrs. Belloc refrained, and
Mildred's timidity or delicacy induced her to postpone. The next day
she wrote Stanley Baird, giving her address and her name and asking him
to call "any afternoon at four or five." She assumed that he would
come on the following day, but the letter happened to reach him within
an hour of her mailing it, and he came that very afternoon.

When she went down to the drawing-room to receive him, she found him
standing in the middle of the room gazing about with a quizzical
expression. As soon as the greetings were over he said:

"You must get out of here, Mildred. This won't do."

"Indeed I shan't," said she. "I've looked