d
tolerate his terms and his methods, had, as much through necessity as
through inclination, gone to the extreme of lack of interest in all
matters of sex. One look at him and the woman who had come with the
idea of offering herself in full or part payment for lessons drooped in
instinctive discouragement.

Jennings hastened to explain to Mildred that she need not hesitate
about closing with Mrs. Brindley. "Your lessons are arranged for,"
said he. "There has been put in the Plaza Trust Company to your credit
the sum of five thousand dollars. This gives you about a hundred
dollars a week for your board and other personal expenses. If that is
not enough, you will let me know. But I estimated that it would be
enough. I do not think it wise for young women entering upon the
preparation for a serious career to have too much money."

"It is more than enough," murmured the girl. "I know nothing about
those things, but it seems to me--"

"You can use as little of it as you like," interrupted Jennings, rising.

Mildred felt as though she had been caught and exposed in a
hypocritical protest. Jennings was holding out something toward her.
She took it, and he went on:

"That's your check-book. The bank will send you statements of your
account, and will notify you when any further sums are added. Now, I
have nothing more to do with your affairs--except, of course, the
artistic side--your development as a singer. You've not forgotten your
appointment?"

"No," said Mildred, like a primary school-child before a formidable
teacher.

"Be prompt, please. I make no reduction for lessons wholly or partly
missed. The half-hour I shall assign to you belongs to you. If you do
not use it, that is your affair. At first you will probably be like
all women--careless about your appointments, coming with lessons
unprepared, telephoning excuses. But if you are serious you will soon
fall into the routine." "I shall try to be regular," murmured Mildred.

Jennings apparently did not hear. "I'm on my way to the opera-house,"
said he. "One of my old pupils is appearing in a new role, and she is
nervous. Good night."

Once more that swift, quiet exit, followed almost instantaneously by
the sound of wheels rolling away. Never had she seen such rapidity of
motion without loss of dignity. "Yes, he's a fraud," she said to
herself, "but he's a good one."

The idea of a career had now become less indefinite. It was still
withou