‘‘Can　I　stay　herefor　more　than　a　few　days？''
  ‘‘But　maybe；　after　a　few　days''　stammered　her　mother。
  ‘‘You　see；　I've　got　to　begin；''　said　Mildred。　　‘‘So　why　delay？　　I'd　gain　nothing。　　I'd　simply　start　Hanging　Rock　to　gossipingand　start　Mr。　Presbury　to　acting　like　a　fiend　again。''
  Her　mother　refused　to　be　convincedwas　the　firmer；　perhaps；　because　she　saw　that　Mildred　was　unshakable　in　her　resolve　to　leave　forthwiththe　obviously　sensible　and　less　troublesome　course。　　They　employed　the　rest　of　Mildred's　three　hours'　stop　in　arguingwhen　Mildred　was　not　raging　against　the　little　general。　　Her　mother　was　more　than　willing　to　assist　her　in　this　denunciation；　but　Mildred　preferred　to　do　it　all　herself。　She　hadperhaps　by　unconsciously　absorbed　training　from　her　lawyer　fatheran　unusual　degree　of　ability　to　see　both　sides　of　a　question。　　When　she　assailed　her　husband；　she　saw　only　her　own　side；　but　somehow　when　her　mother　railed　and　raved；　she　began　to　see　another　sideand　the　sight　was　not　agreeable。　　She　wished　to　feel　that　her　husband　was　altogether　in　the　wrong；　she　did　not　wish　to　have　intruded　upon　her　such　facts　as　that　she　had　sold　herself　to　himquite　in　the　customary　way　of　ladies；　but　nevertheless　quite　shamelessly　or　that　in　strict　justice　she　had　done　nothing　for　him　to　entitle　her　to　a　liberal　money　allowance　or　any　allowance　at　all。
  On　the　train；　going　back　to　New　York；　she　admitted　to　herself　that　the　repulsive　little　general　had　held　strictly　to　the　terms　of　the　bargain''　but　only　a　devil　and　one　with　not　a　single　gentlemanly　instinct　would　insist　on　such　a　bargain。''　　It　took　away　much　of　the　shame；　and　all　of　the　sting；　of　despising　herself　to　feel　that　she　was　looking　still　lower　when　she　turned　to　despising　him。
  To　edge　out　the　little　general　she　began　to　think　of　her　mother；　but　as　she　passed　in　review　what　her　mother　had　said　and　how　she　had　said　it　she　saw　that　for　all　the　protests　and　arguings　her　mother　was　more　than　resigned　to　her　departure。　　Mildred　felt　no　bitterness；　ever　since　she　could　remember　her　mother　had　been　a　shifter　of　responsibility。　　Still；　to　stare　into　the　face　of　so　disagreeable　a　fact　as　that　one　had　no　place　on　earth　to　go　to；　no　one　on　earth　to　turn　to；　not　even　one's　own　motherto　stare　on　at　that　grimacing　ugliness　did　not　tend　to　cheerfulness。　　Mildred　tried　to　think　of　the　futurebut　how　could　she　think　of　something　that　was　nothing？　　She　knew　that　she　would　go　on；　somehow；　in　some　direction；　but　by　no　effort　of　her　imagination　could　she　picture　it。　　She　was　so　impressed　by　the　necessity　of　considering　the　future　that；　to　rouse　herself；　she　tried　to　frighten　herself　with　pictures　of　poverty　and　misery；　of　herself　a　derelict　in　the　vast　and　cold　desert　of　New　Yorkperhaps　in　rags；　hungry；　ill；　but　all　in　vain。　　She　did　not　believe　it。　Always　she　had　had　plenty　to　wear　and　to　eat；　and　comfortable　surroundings。　　She　could　no　more　think　of　herself　as　without　those　things　than　a　living　person　can　imagine　himself　dead。
  ‘‘I'm　a　fool；''　she　said　to　herself。　　‘‘I'm　certain　to　get　into　all　sorts　of　trouble。　　How　can　it　be　otherwise；　when　I've　no　money；　no　friends；　no　experience；　no　way　of　making　a　livingno　honest　wayperhaps　no　way　of　the　other　kind；　either？''　　There　are　many　women　who　ecstasize　their　easily　tickled　vanities　by　fancying　that　if　they　were　so　disposed　they　need　only　flutter　an　eyelid　to　have　men　by　the　legion　striving　for　their　favors；　each　man　with　a　bag　of　gold。　　Mildred；　inexperienced　as　she　was；　had　no　such　delusions。　　Her　mind　happened　not　to　be　of　that　chastely　licentious　caste　which　continually　revolves　and　fantastically　exaggerates　the　things　of　the　body。
  She　could　not　understand　her　own　indifference　about　the　future。　　She　did　not　realize　that　it　was　wholly　due　to　Stanley　Baird's　offer。　　She　was　imagining　she　was　regarding　that　offer　as　something　she　might　possibly　consider；　but　probably　would　not。　　She　did　not　know　that　her　soul　had　seized　upon　it；　had　enfolded　it　and　would　on　no　account　let　it　go。　　It　is　the　habit　of　our　secret　selves　thus　to　make　decisions　and　await　their　own　good　time　for　making　us　acquainted　with　them。
  With　her　bag　on　the　seat　beside　her　she　set　out　to　find　a　temporary　lodging。　　Not　until　several　hotels　had　refused　her　admittance　on　the　pretext　that　they　were　‘‘full　up''　did　she　realize　that　a　young　woman　alone　is　an　object　of　suspicion　in　New　York。　　When　a　fourth　room…clerk　expressed　his　polite　regrets　she　looked　him　straight　in　the　eye　and　said：
  ‘‘I　understand。　　But　I　can't　sleep　in　the　street。　　You　must　tell　me　where　I　can　go。''
  ‘‘Well；　there's　the　Ripon　over　in　Seventh　Avenue；''　said　he。
  ‘‘Is　it　respectable？''　said　she。
  ‘‘Oh；　it's　very　clean　and　comfortable　there；''　said　he。　‘‘They'll　treat　you　right。''
  ‘‘Is　it　respectable？''　said　she。
  ‘‘Well；　now；　it　doesn't　LOOK　queer；　if　that's　what　you　mean；''　replied　he。　　‘‘You'll　do　very　nicely　there。　　You　can　be　just　as　quiet　as　you　want。''
  She　saw　that　hotel　New　York　would　not　believe　her　respectable。　　So　to　the　Ripon　she　went；　and　was　admitted　without　discussion。　　As　the　last　respectable　clerk　had　said；　it　did　not　LOOK　queer。　　But　it　FELT　queer；　she　resolved　that　she　would　go　into　a　boarding…house　the　very　next　day。
  Here　again　what　seemed　simple　proved　difficult。　　No　respectable　boarding…house　would　have　Miss　Mary　Stevens。　　She　was　confident　that　nothing　in　her　dress　or　manner　hinted　mystery。　　Yet　those　sharp…eyed　land…　ladies　seemed　to　know　at　once　that　there　was　something　peculiar　about　her。　　Most　of　them　became　rude　the　instant　they　set　eyes　upon　her。　　A　fewof　the　obviously　less　prosperous　classtalked　with　her；　seemed　to　be　listening　for　something　which　her　failing　to　say　decided　them　upon　all　but　ordering　her　out　of　the　house。　　She；　hindered　by　her　innocence；　was　slow　in　realizing　that　she　could　not　hope　for　admission　to　any　select　respectable　circle；　even　of　high…class　salesladies　and　clerks；　unless　she　gave　a　free　and　clear　account　of　herself　whence　she　had　come；　what　she　was　doing；　how　she　got　her　money。
  Toward　the　end　of　the　second　day's　wearisome　and　humiliating　search　she　found　a　house　that　would　admit　her。　　It　was　a　pretentious；　well…furnished　big　house　in　Madison　Avenue。　　The　pricethirty…five　dollars　a　week　for　board；　a　bedroom　with　a　folding　bed　in　an　alcove；　and　a　bath；　was　more　than　double　what　she　had　counted　on　paying；　but　she　discovered　that　decent　and　clean　lodgings　and　food　fit　to　eat　were　not　to　be　had　for　less。　　‘‘And　I　simply　can't　live　pig…fashion；''　said　she。　　‘‘I'd　be　so　depressed　that　I　could　do　nothing。　　I　can't　live　like　a　wild　animal；　and　I　won't。''　　She　had　some　vague　notionforebodingthat　this　was　not　the　proper　spirit　with　which　to　face　life。　　‘‘I　suppose　I'm　horribly　foolish；''　reflected　she；　‘‘but　if　I　must　go　down；　I'll　go　down　with　my　colors　flying。''　　She　did　not　know　precisely　what　that　phrase　meant；　but　it　sounded　fine　and　brave　and　heartened　her　to　take　the　expensive　lodgings。
  The　landlady　was　a　Mrs。　Belloc。　　Mildred　had　not　talked　with　her　twenty　minutes　before　she　had　a　feeling　that　this　name　was　assumed。　　The　evening　of　her　first　day　in　the　house　she　learned　that　her　guess　was　correct　learned　it　from　the　landlady　herself。　　After　dinner　Mrs。　Belloc　came　into　her　room　to　cheer　her　up；　to　find　out　about　her　and　to　tell　her　about　herself。
  ‘‘Now　that　you've　come；''　said　she；　‘‘the　house　is　full　upexcept　some　little　rooms　at　the　top　that　I'd　as　lief　not　fill。　　The　probabilities　are　that　any　ladies　who　would　take　them　wouldn't　be　refined　enough　to　suit　those　I　have。　　There　are　six；　not　counting　me；　every　one　with　a　bath　and　two　with　private　parlors。　　And　as　they're　all　handsome；　sensible　women；　ladylike　and　steady；　I　think　the　prospects　are　that　they'll　pay　promptly　and　that　I　won't　have　any　trouble。''
  Mildred　reflected　upon　this　curious　statement。　　It　sounded　innocent　enough；　yet　what　a　peculiar　way　to　put　a　simple　fact。
  ‘‘Of　course　it's　none　of　my　business　how　people　live　as　long　as　they　keep　up　the　respectabilities；''　pursued　Mrs。　Belloc。　　‘‘It　don't　do　to　inquire　into　people　in　New　York。　　Most　of　'em　come　here　because　they　want　to　live　as　they　please。''
  ‘‘No　doubt；''　said　Mildred　a　little　nervously；　for　she　suspected　her　landlady　of　hitting　at　her；　and　wondered　if　she　had　come　to　cross…examine　her　and；　if　the　results　were　not　satisfactory；　to　put　her　into　the　street。
  ‘‘I　know　_I_　came　for　that　reason；''　pursued　Mrs。　Belloc。　　‘‘I　was　a　school…teacher　up　in　New　England　until　about　two　years　ago。　　Did　you　ever　teach　school？''
  ‘‘Not　yet；''　said　Mildred。　　‘‘And　I　don't　think　I　ever　shall。　　I　don't　know　enough。''
  ‘‘Oh；　yes；　you　do。　　A　teacher　doesn't　need　to　know　much。　　The　wages　are　so　poorat　least　up　in　New　Englandthat　they　don't　expect　you　to　know　anything。　It's　all　in　the　books。　　I　left　because　I　couldn't　endure　the　life。　　Lord！　how　dull　those　little　towns　are！　Ever　live　in　a　little　town？''
  ‘‘All　my　life；''　said　Mildred。
  ‘‘Well；　you'll　never　go　back。''
  ‘‘I　hope　not。''
  ‘‘You　won't。　　Why　should　you？　　A　sensible　woman　with　looksespecially　if　she　knows　how　to　carry　her　clothescan　stay　in　New　York　as　long　as　she　pleases；　and　live　off　the　fat　of　the　land。''
  ‘‘That's　good　news；''　said　Mildred。　　She　began