"There is no other way," I replied in broken tones.

Jane went to the Mirror and looked at herself. Then she turned to me.

"Others don't do it."

"I must work out my own Salvation, Jane," I observed firmly. But she had
roused me from my apathy, and I went into Sis's room, returning with
a box of candy some one had sent her. "I must feel, Jane, or I cannot
write."

"Pooh! Loads of writers get fat on it. Why don't you try Comedy? It pays
well."

"Oh--MONEY!" I said, in a disgusted tone.

"Your FORTE, of course, is Love," she said. "Probably that's because
you've had so much experience." Owing to certain reasons it is generaly
supposed that I have experienced the gentle Passion. But not so, alas!
"Bab," Jane said, suddenly, "I have been your friend for a long time. I
have never betrayed you. You can trust me with your Life. Why don't you
tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Somthing has happened. I see it in your eyes. No girl who is happy
and has not a tradgic story stays at home shut up at a messy desk when
everyone is out at the Club playing tennis. Don't talk to me about a
Career. A girl's Career is a man and nothing else. And especialy after
last winter, Bab. Is--is it the same one?"