t any attraction--not because of the toil it involved, for that
made small impression upon her who had never worked and had never seen
anyone work, but because a career meant cutting herself off from
everything she had been brought up to regard as fit and proper for a
lady. She was ashamed of this; she did not admit its existence even to
herself, and in her talks with Baird about the career she had professed
exactly the opposite view. Yet there it was--nor need she have been
ashamed of a feeling that is instilled into women of her class from
babyhood as part of their ladylike education. The career had not
become definite. She could not imagine herself out on a stage in some
sort of a costume, with a painted face, singing before an audience.
Still, the career was less indefinite than when it had no existence
beyond Stanley Baird's enthusiasm and her own whipped-up pretense of
enthusiasm.

She shrank from the actual start, but at the same time was eager for
it. Inaction began to fret her nerves, and she wished to be doing
something to show her appreciation of Stanley Baird's generosity. She
telephoned Mrs. Brindley that she would come in the morning, and then
she told her landlady.

Mrs. Belloc was more than regretful; she was distressed. Said she:
"I've taken a tremendous fancy to you, and I hate to give you up. I'd
do most anything to keep you."

Mildred explained that her work compelled her to go.

"That's very interesting," said Mrs. Belloc. "If I were a few years
younger, and hadn't spent all my energy in teaching school and putting
through that marriage, I'd try to get on the stage, myself. I don't
want to lose sight of you."

"Oh, I'll come to see you from time to time."

"No, you won't," said Mrs. Belloc practically. "No more than I'd come
to see you. Our lives lie in different directions, and in New York
that means we'll never have time to meet. But we may be thrown
together again, some time. As I've got a twenty years' lease on this
house, I guess you'll have no trouble in finding me. I suppose I could
look you up through Professor Jennings?"

"Yes," said Mildred. Then impulsively, "Mrs. Belloc, there's a reason
why I'd like to change without anyone's knowing what has become of
me--I mean, anyone that might be--watching me."

"I understand perfectly," said Mrs. Belloc with a ready sympathy that
made Mildred appreciate the advantages of the friendship of
unconventional, knock-about people