Well for her that she was an experienced shopper. She went straight to the
millinery department and arranged to have the hat boxed and sent to the
address Dunham had given her. Her gentle voice and handsome rain-coat
proclaimed her a lady and commanded deference and respectful attention. As
she walked away, she had an odd feeling of having communicated with her
one friend and preserver.

It had cost less to express the hat than she had feared, yet her stock of
money was woefully small. Some kind of a dress she must have, and a wrap,
that she might be disguised, but what could she buy and yet have something
left for food? There was no telling how long it would be before she could
replenish her purse. Life must be reduced to its lowest terms. True, she
had jewelry which might be sold, but that would scarcely be safe, for if
she were watched, she might easily be identified by it. What did the very
poor do, who were yet respectable?

The ready-made coats and skirts were entirely beyond her means, even those
that had been marked down. With a hopeless feeling, she walked aimlessly
down between the tables of goods. The suit-case weighed like lead, and she
put it on the floor to rest her aching arms. Lifting her eyes, she saw a
sign over a table--"Linene Skirts, 75 cts. and $1.00."

Here was a ray of hope. She turned eagerly to examine them. Piles of
sombre skirts, blue and black and tan. They were stout and coarse and
scant, and not of the latest cut, but what mattered it? She decided on a
seventy-five cent black one. It seemed pitiful to have to economize in a
matter of twenty-five cents, when she had been used to counting her money
by dollars, yet there was a feeling of exultation at having gotten for
that price any skirt at all that would do. A dim memory of what she had