eedom. But Dr. Meredith has offered me work, and
got me a promise of more."

The Duchess opened her eyes.

"Writing! Well, of course, we all know you can do anything you want to
do. And you won't let anybody help you at all?"

"I won't let anybody give me money, if that's what you mean," said
Julie, smiling. But it was a smile without accent, without gayety.

The Duchess, watching her, said to herself, "Since I came in she is
changed--quite changed."

"Julie, you're horribly proud!"

Julie's face contracted a little.

"How much 'power' should I have left, do you think--how much
self-respect--if I took money from my friends?"

"Well, not money, perhaps. But, Julie, you know all about Freddie's
London property. It's abominable how much he has. There are always a few
houses he keeps in his own hands. If Lady Henry _does_ quarrel with you,
and we could lend you a little house--for a time--_wouldn't_ you take
it, Julie?"

Her voice had the coaxing inflections of a child. Julie hesitated.

"Only if the Duke himself offered it," she said, finally, with a brusque
stiffening of her whole attitude.

The Duchess flushed and stood up.

"Oh, well, that's all right," she said, but no longer in the same voice.
"Remember, I have your promise. Good-bye, Julie, you darling!... Oh,
by-the-way, what an idiot I am! Here am I forgetting the chief thing I
came about. Will you come with me to Lady Hubert to-night? Do! Freddie's
away, and I hate going by myself."

"To Lady Hubert's?" said Julie, starting a little. "I wonder what Lady
Henry would say?"

"Tell her Jacob won't be there," said the Duchess, laughing. "Then she
won't make any difficulties."

"Shall I go and ask her?"

"Gracious! let me get out of the house first. Give her a message from me
that I will come and see her to-morrow morning. We've got to make it up,
Freddie says; so the sooner it's over, the better. Say all the civil
things you can to her about to-night, and wire me this afternoon. If
all's well, I come for you at eleven."

The Duchess rustled away. Julie was left standing by the table, alone.
Her face was very still, but her eyes shone, her teeth pressed her lip.
Unconsciously her hand closed upon a delicate blossom of eucharis and
crushed it.

"I'll go," she said, to herself. "Yes, I'll go."

Her letter of the morning, as it happened, had included the following
sentences:

"I think to-night I must put in an appearance at the Hubert Delafields'