came into her heart. She
would not wait any longer. She would know for herself just how she was
situated financially. She wrote a note to the editor of Everybody's
Home, asking him if it would be convenient to let her know what
reception her work was having with his subscribers, whether he desired
her to continue the department in his magazines, and if so, what was
the best offer he could make her for the recipes, the natural history
comments accompanying them, and the sketches. Then she went down to the
telephone book and looked up the location of the Consolidated Bank. She
decided that she would stop there on her way from school the next day
and ask to be shown the Strong accounts.

While she was meditating these heroic measures the bell rang and Katy
admitted John Gilman. Strangely enough, he was asking for Linda, not for
Eileen. At the first glimpse of him Linda knew that something was wrong;
so without any prelude she said abruptly: "What's the matter, John?
Don't you know where I Eileen is either?"

"Approximately," he answered. "She has 'phoned me two or three times,
but I haven't seen her for three days. Do you know where she is or
exactly why she is keeping away from home as she is?"

"Yes," said Linda, "I do. I told you the other day the time had come
when I was going to demand a settlement of Father's estate and a fixed
income. That time came three days ago and I have not seen Eileen since."

They entered the living room. As Linda passed the table, propped against
a candlestick on it, she noticed a note addressed to herself.

"Oh, here will be an explanation," she said. "Here is a note for me. Sit
down a minute till I read it."

She seated herself on the arm of a chair, tore open the note, and
instantly began reading aloud.

"Dear little sister--"

"Pathetic," interpolated Linda, "in consideration of the fact that I am
about twice as big as she is. However, we'll let that go, and focus on
the enclosure." She waved a slender slip of paper at Gilman. "I never
was possessed of an article like this before in all my tender young
life, but it seems to me that it's a cheque, and I can't tell you quite
how deeply it amuses me. But to return to business, at the present
instant I am:

DEAR LITTLE SISTER:

It seems that all the friends I have are particularly insistent on
seeing me all at once and all in a rush. I don't think I ever had quite
so many invitations at one time in my life before, and the next tw