"Would you favor me with a specimen of your piano playing?"

There was a piano in the back parlor. Florence removed her gloves, and
taking a seat before it, dashed into a spirited selection from
Strauss.

Mrs. Leighton listened with surprised approval.

"Certainly you are a fine performer," she said. "What--if I should
engage you--would you expect in the way of compensation?"

"How much time would you expect me to give?"

"Three hours daily--from nine to twelve."

"I hardly know what to say. What did you expect to pay?"

"About fifty cents an hour."

Florence knew very well, from the sums that had been paid for her own
education, that this was miserably small pay; but it was much more
than she could earn by sewing.

"I will teach a month on those terms," she said, after a pause.

Mrs. Leighton looked well pleased. She knew that she was making a
great bargain.

"Oh, by the way," she said, "can you give references?"

"I can refer you to Madam Morrison," naming the head of a celebrated
female seminary. "She educated me."

"That will be quite satisfactory," said Mrs. Leighton, graciously.
"Can you begin to-morrow?"

"Yes, madam."

"You will then see your pupil. At present she is out."

Florence bowed and withdrew.

She had been afraid Mrs. Leighton would inquire where she lived, and
she would hardly dare to name the humble street which she called home.

She walked toward Fifth Avenue, when, just as she was turning the
corner, she met Mr. Percy de Brabazon, swinging a slender cane, and
dressed in the extreme of the fashion.

"Miss Linden!" he exclaimed, eagerly. "This is--aw--indeed a pleasure.
Where are you walking this fine morning? May I--aw--have the pleasure
of accompanying you?"

Florence stopped short in deep embarrassment.

Chapter XII.
A Friend, Though A Dude.

Percy de Brabazon looked sincerely glad to meet Florence, and she
herself felt some pleasure in meeting one who reminded her of her
former life.

But it was quite impossible that she should allow him to accompany her
to her poor home on the East Side.

"Thank you, Mr. de Brabazon, but my engagements this morning will
hardly permit me to accept your escort," she said.

"I suppose that means that you are going shopping; but I don't mind
it, I assure you, and I will carry your bundles," he added,
magnanimously.

"That would never do. What! the fashionable Mr. de Brabazon carrying
bundles? You would lose your social