n the air and
wondered what was to become of her, as her mood made her hopeful or
despondent of their acceptance. She had sold some of her work during
her three years of study in New York, but not enough to pay even her
very modest living expenses, and these, together with the fees for
tuition at the art school and the purchase of material, had diminished
almost to the vanishing point the few hundreds of dollars which she
possessed when she commenced her studies.

A knock on the door caused her to glance hastily around the room, to
be sure that evidences of domestic occupancy were not scattered about,
before opening it to the tall, good-looking young fellow who stood hat
in hand, his fur-lined coat thrown open and an expectant smile on his
face.

"I have climbed so many stairs that I am not sure whether I have
reached heaven or the studio of Miss Elizabeth Thornton," he said,
breathlessly, in a cheery voice; but the girl, whose face was in the
shadow while his was in the light, extended her hand and greeted him
warmly.

"Tom, you irreverent boy! Come inside this minute, before you
scandalize my neighbors," she exclaimed. "And now that you are in,
tell me how you found me out and how you happen to be in New York."

"In the first place, I am fortunate enough not to find you out, and,
secondly, I don't happen to be in New York; I just live here, as I
have done any time these past three years. But I didn't know that you
did until I met old Oliver, who gave me your address. I didn't know
whether it was your place of business or your dwelling; but I came on
the chance of finding you."

"And I don't think you appreciate yet that it is both," she said, an
amused expression on her face, as she saw him glance around the room.

"Do you really live here, too?" he asked. The evidence of the studio
was there, but none of the delicate and dainty traces of a feminine
bedchamber.

"Indeed I do, and when it comes 'by-low' time, there is a grand
transformation scene," she answered, laughing; and, although he joined
in her laughter, there was sadness in his heart as he realized the
import of the meager accommodations.

"I don't see a kitchen, at any rate, so I suppose there is no reason
why you can't come out to dinner with me this evening," he said.

"Nothing but your presence, which prevents me from changing my gown,"
she replied, doubtfully. "You can choose between walking the streets
and sitting on the stairs outside while