act shared her ideals as
little as their pasts had anything in common with hers. Many of them
were not older in years, but one and all were incomparably older in
other ways and painfully sophisticated. Pretty in a coarse way,
painted and powdered, bold and often vulgar, they were almost without
exception girls whose whole lives had been spent in the atmosphere of
the stage, and that in its cheaper and poorer aspects. One or both
parents, brother, sister, aunt, or uncle had figured in shows or
exhibitions of some sort, and they had fallen into the profession in
that manner. None had, like Elsie, chosen it as a calling.

Disappointed as she was, disheartened utterly at moments, the girl
hugged her class motto to her breast and struggled on. So deep was her
purpose, so strong her interest, that she not only pressed doggedly on,
but forced a certain amount of satisfaction out of the struggle. How
it might have been had she not possessed in Miss Pritchard a solace and
refuge, it would be difficult to say. Elsie herself hardly knew how
much courage and strength she gained during the evenings and other
fragments of time spent with her. Looking forward to that
companionship gave her patience to endure many a difficult hour which
perchance she had not endured otherwise. But with that always before
her, despite the hardships that were so different from those for which
she had been prepared, she was nevertheless wonderfully happy--perhaps,
happier than she had ever been before.

Sometimes, when the day had been unusually trying, she would greet Miss
Pritchard at night with a warmth that almost frightened the latter,
clinging to her as if she would never let her go. But she never
confessed any of her troubles connected with the school. She talked
much of it, but it was always of the most interesting occurrences and
of amusing incidents. For her heart was in the matter as much as ever,
and Miss Pritchard wasn't so favorably inclined toward it as to make it
prudent to let her know of the disadvantages.

But it was terribly hard for one of her nature to have no one in whom
to confide, and she longed for Elsie Marley. If she could have talked
things over with Elsie Marley it would have made it easier. Simply to
unburden her heart would mean much. Ever since she had been in New
York she had longed to see Elsie again; and with this added reason, and
a desire to learn more of her life in Enderby than she could gather
fro