shadow in whatever light she stood.

Sometimes he cast an honest and troubled glance at Lou's clothes
that increased in conspicuity rather than in style; but this was no
disloyalty; he deprecated the attention they called to her in the
streets.

And Lou was no less faithful to her chum. There was a law that Nancy
should go with them on whatsoever outings they might take. Dan bore
the extra burden heartily and in good cheer. It might be said that
Lou furnished the color, Nancy the tone, and Dan the weight of the
distraction-seeking trio. The escort, in his neat but obviously
ready-made suit, his ready-made tie and unfailing, genial, ready-made
wit never startled or clashed. He was of that good kind that you are
likely to forget while they are present, but remember distinctly
after they are gone.

To Nancy's superior taste the flavor of these ready-made pleasures
was sometimes a little bitter: but she was young; and youth is a
gourmand, when it cannot be a gourmet.

"Dan is always wanting me to marry him right away," Lou told her
once. "But why should I? I'm independent. I can do as I please with
the money I earn; and he never would agree for me to keep on working
afterward. And say, Nance, what do you want to stick to that old
store for, and half starve and half dress yourself? I could get you
a place in the laundry right now if you'd come. It seems to me that
you could afford to be a little less stuck-up if you could make a
good deal more money."