ht. We can't leave her too much to her own devices,
even if she is the best little thing in the world."

"Bless her heart!" cried Patricia, with a laugh. "I'd clean forgot
that I had any relatives in the world. It's a good thing I have you to
keep me straight, Norn. Mercy, what a jam! I don't believe we'll ever
get a place at the wash-stands."

The dressing room was crowded to its limit, paint brushes were being
washed and stained hands scrubbed at the line of faucets that occupied
two sides of the room; girls were hurrying into their street clothes,
while others, coming in for the night life, were getting into aprons
and paint dresses; some few who were staying for the night life were
curled up on the wide couches, exchanging comments with their friends
among the hurrying crowd while they refreshed themselves with crackers
or cakes.

Patricia, with her cheeks glowing and twin lights dancing in her big
eyes, loitered so over her dressing that they were among the last to
leave.

"I hate to go, don't you?" she said, as they came out into the
corridor, which was dimmer than ever in the sparsely lit twilight. "I
love-- Oh, how you made me jump!" she cried, starting back as a figure
stepped from the alcove by the street entrance.

The girl, who was unknown to them both, addressed them impartially.

"The Committee on Initiation hereby notify you that your initiation
will take place on Friday of this week, and you are instructed to
produce the usual initiation fee, or answer to the committee for the
failure."

Patricia gasped. "My word!" she cried. "They don't postpone things
much around here, do they? What is the fee?"

"Three pounds of candy for the modeling and composition class, four for
the head and illustration class, and five for the life," was the prompt
response.

Patricia giggled. "You're in for it, Norn. You have to pony up for
the head and the night life, too. I'm in luck to be in the mudpie
department."

"What is the initiation itself?" asked Elinor, as the girl turned away.

"You'll find out when it happens," she replied, over her shoulder.
"They never know themselves till the last moment. The day classes are
tame--just a speech when you turn in your candy or some such mild
diversion, but the night life is more sporting, and they may put you
through a course of sprouts, but they're good-natured idiots on the
whole. None of us are as outrageous as we seem."

Elinor looked after her t