he hope of fulfilling the demands of a regular office
position, even if one had been open to her. Mrs. Finnegan's enthusiasm
to be neighborly and helpful was more a matter of theory than practice,
and it did not take Claire many days to decide that she had no right to
impose upon a good nature which was made up largely of ignorance of a
sick-room's demands. Claire's final check from Flint was dwindling with
alarming rapidity; indeed, she was facing the first of the year with the
realization that there would be barely enough to pay the next month's
rent, let alone to settle the current bills. She had no idea what Mrs.
Condor intended paying, but she fancied that it must be little enough.
Surely Mrs. Condor did not receive any great sum for her singing and
there must be any number of gratuitous performances. She decided quite
suddenly, the day after Christmas, to take Mrs. Condor at her word, and
she was a bit disturbed at both the lady's reply and the manner of it.

"Oh," Mrs. Condor had drawled rather disagreeably, "I thought you'd
given up the idea. I spoke to somebody else only this morning. But, of
course, I'm not certain about how it will turn out. I'll keep you in
mind and if the other falls through.... By the way, how is your mother?
I keep asking Ned Stillman every day what the news is, but he never
knows anything. All men are alike ... unless they've got some special
interest. Sometimes I marvel that he looks me up so regularly, but then
I've known him ever since.... But there, I'll be telling more than I
should! Do come and see me. I'm always in in the morning.... Yes, I can
imagine you do have a lot to do. I'm so sorry you didn't call up
sooner. But one never can tell. Good-by.... I hope you'll have a happy
New Year."

Claire hung up the receiver. Well, she had lost an opportunity to turn
an easy dollar or two and she had no one to thank but herself. Why had
she delayed in accepting Mrs. Condor's offer?

Fortunately the unexpected arrival of Nellie Whitehead cut short any
further repinings. Claire was frankly glad to see her and at once she
thought, "She has come to show me her new coat."

But Nellie Whitehead was incased in a wrap that showed every evidence of
a good six months' wear.

"My new coat?" the lady echoed, in answer to Claire's question. "There
ain't no such animal. Somebody else copped it. I didn't shove it back
far enough the last time I took a look at it, I guess. Oh, well, I
should worry!