servants are not always to be trusted, and
Mrs. Bray's rooms are locked; we can easily carry it between us. I'm
strong--got good country blood in my veins. You see I'm from the country
as well as you; right glad we met. Don't know what you would have done."

And she drew the girl out, talking familiarly, as they went.

"Haven't had your dinner yet?"

"No; just arrived in the cars, and came right here."

"You must have something to eat, then. I know a nice place; often get
dinner there when I'm out."

The girl did not feel wholly at ease. She had not yet been able to get
sight of Pinky's closely-veiled features, and there was something in her
voice that made her feel uncomfortable.

"I don't care for any dinner," she said; "I'm not hungry."

"Well, I am, then, so come. Do you like oysters?"

"Yes."

"Cook them splendidly. Best place in the city. And you'd like to get
into a store or learn a trade?"

"Yes."

"What trade did you think of?"

"None in particular."

"How would you like to get into a book-bindery? I know two or three
girls in binderies, and they can make from five to ten dollars a week.
It's the nicest, cleanest work I know of."

"Oh, do you?" returned Flora, with newly-awakening interest.

"Yes; we'll talk it all over while we're eating dinner. This way."

And Pinky turned the corner of a small street that led away from the
more crowded thoroughfare along which they had been passing.

"It's a quiet and retired place, where only the nicest kind of people
go," she added. "Many working-girls and girls in stores get their
dinners there. We'll meet some of them, no doubt; and if any that I know
should happen in, we might hear of a good place. Just the thing, isn't
it? I'm right glad I met you."

They had gone halfway down the square, when Pinky stopped before the
shop of a confectioner. In the window was a display of cakes, pies and
candies, and a sign with the words, "LADIES' RESTAURANT."

"This is the place," she said, and opening the door, passed in, the
young stranger following.

A sign of caution, unseen by Flora, was made to a girl who stood behind
the counter. Then Pinky turned, saying,

"How will you have your oysters? stewed, fried, broiled or roasted?"

"I'm not particular--any way," replied Flora.

"I like them fried. Will you have them the same way?"

Flora nodded assent.

"Let them be fried, then. Come, we'll go up stairs. Anybody there?"

"Two or three only."

"Any