ell, Pilkington, my boy, I shall expect you at seven
o'clock. Good-bye till then. Come, Jill."

"Good-bye, Mr. Pilkington," said Jill.

"Good-bye for the present, Miss Mariner," said Mr. Pilkington, bending
down to take her hand. The tortoise-shell spectacles shot a last soft
beam at her.

As the front door closed behind them, Uncle Chris heaved a sigh of
relief.

"Whew! I think I handled that little contretemps with diplomacy! A
certain amount of diplomacy, I think!"

"If you mean," said Jill severely, "that you told some disgraceful
fibs...."

"Fibs, my dear--or shall we say, artistic mouldings of the unshapely
clay of truth--are the ... how shall I put it?... Well, anyway, they
come in dashed handy. It would never have done for Mrs. Peagrim to
have found out that you were in the chorus. If she discovered that my
niece was in the chorus, she would infallibly suspect me of being an
adventurer. And while," said Uncle Chris meditatively, "of course I
_am_, it is nice to have one's little secrets. The good lady has had a
rooted distaste for girls in that perfectly honourable but maligned
profession ever since our long young friend back there was sued for
breach of promise by a member of a touring company in his second year
at college. We all have our prejudices. That is hers. However, I
think, we may rely on our friend to say nothing about the matter....
But why did you do it? My dear child, whatever induced you to take
such a step?"

Jill laughed.

"That's practically what Mr. Miller said to me when we were rehearsing
one of the dances this afternoon, only he put it differently." She
linked her arm in his. "What else could I do? I was alone in New York
with the remains of that twenty dollars you sent me and no more in
sight."

"But why didn't you stay down at Brookport with your Uncle Elmer?"

"Have you ever seen my Uncle Elmer?"

"No. Curiously enough, I never have."

"If you had, you wouldn't ask. Brookport! Ugh! I left when they tried
to get me to understudy the hired man, who had resigned."

"What!"

"Yes, they got tired of supporting me in the state to which I was
accustomed--I don't blame them!--so they began to find ways of making
me useful about the home. I didn't mind reading to Aunt Julia, and I
could just stand taking Tibby for walks. But, when it came to
shoveling snow, I softly and silently vanished away."

"But I can't understand all this. I suggested to your
uncle--diplomatically--tha