went out on the streets and saw everybody on the way to a good time but
you? We used to look in the newspapers for notices of the big balls, and
we'd take the cars to the West End and stand outside the awnings watching
the carriages driving up and the people coming in. And the same with
the weddings. We got to know a good many of the swells by sight. There
was Mrs. Larrabbee,"--a certain awe crept into her voice--"and Miss
Ferguson--she's sweet--and a lot more. Some of the girls used to copy
their clothes and hats, but Florry and me tried to live honest. It was
funny," she added irrelevantly, "but the more worn out we were at night,
the more we'd want a little excitement, and we used to go to the
dance-halls and keep going until we were ready to drop."

She laughed at the recollection.

"There was a floorwalker who never let me alone the whole time I was at
Pratt's--he put me in mind of a pallbearer. His name was Selkirk, and he
had a family in Westerly, out on the Grade Suburban . . . . Some of
the girls never came back at all, except to swagger in and buy expensive
things, and tell us we were fools to work. And after a while I noticed
Florry was getting discouraged. We never had so much as a nickel left
over on Saturdays and they made us sign a paper, when they hired us, that
we lived at home. It was their excuse for paying us six dollars a week.
They do it at Ferguson's, too. They say they can get plenty of girls who
do live at home. I made up my mind I'd go back to Madison, but I kept
putting it off, and then father died, and I couldn't!

"And then, one day, Florry left. She took her things from the room when
I was at the store, and I never saw her again. I got another roommate.
I couldn't afford to pay for the room alone. You wouldn't believe I kept
straight, would you?" she demanded, with a touch of her former defiance.