ourneyings under the guidance of attractive advertisements and
"carefully selected" agents' lists, she found herself in front of her
first lodgings in New York--the house of Mrs. Belloc. She had often
thought of the New England school-teacher, arrived by such strange
paths at such a strange position in New York. She had started to call
on her many times, but each time had been turned aside; New York makes
it more than difficult to find time to do anything that does not have
to be done at a definite time and for a definite reason. She was worn
out with her futile trampings up and down streets, up and down stairs.
Up the stone steps she went and rang the bell.

Yes, Mrs. Belloc was in, and would be glad to see her, if Miss Stevens
would wait in the drawing-room a few minutes. She had not seated
herself when down the stairs came the fresh, pleasantly countrified
voice of Mrs. Belloc, inviting her to ascend. As Mildred started up,
she saw at the head of the stairs the frank and cheerful face of the
lady herself. She was holding together at the neck a thin silk wrapper
whose lines strongly suggested that it was the only garment she had on.

"Why should old friends stand on ceremony?" said Mrs. Belloc. "Come
right up. I've been taking a bath. My masseuse has just gone." Mrs.
Belloc enclosed her in a delightfully perfumed embrace, and they kissed
with enthusiasm.

"I AM glad to see you," said Mildred, feeling all at once a thrilling
sense of at-homeness. "I didn't realize how glad I'd be till I saw
you."

"It'd be a pretty stiff sort that wouldn't feel at home with me,"
observed Mrs. Belloc. "New York usually stiffens people up. It's had
the opposite effect on me. Though I must say, I have learned to stiffen
with people I don't like--and I'll have to admit that I like fewer and
fewer. People don't wear well, do they? What IS the matter with them?
Why can't they be natural and not make themselves into rubbishy, old
scrap-bags full of fakes and pretenses? You're looking at my hair."

They were in Mrs. Belloc's comfortable sitting-room now, and she was
smoking a cigarette and regarding Mildred with an expression of delight
that was most flattering. Said Mildred:

"Your hair does look well. It's thicker--isn't it?"

"Think so?" said Mrs. Belloc. "It ought to be, with all the time and
money I've spent on it. My, how New York does set a woman to repairing
and fixing up. Nothing artificial goes here. It mu