Eileen should occupy their father and mother's suite, redecorated
and daintily furnished according to her own taste, to keep the
parts of the house that she cared to use decorated with flowers
and beautifully appointed, while Linda must lock herself in a
small stuffy bedroom room, dingy and none too comfortable, when
in deference to her pride she wished to work in secret until she
learned whether she could succeed.

Then she began thinking, and decided that the only available
place in the house for her use was the billiard room. She made
up her mind that she would demand the sole right to this big
attic room. She would sell the table and use the money to buy
herself a suitable worktable and a rug. She would demand that
Eileen produce enough money for better clothing for her, and then
she remembered what she had said to Donald Whiting about
conquering her horror for a motor car. Linda turned in at the
walk leading to her home, but she passed the front entrance and
followed around to the side. As she went she could hear voices
in the living room and she knew that Eileen was entertaining some
of her many friends; for Eileen was that peculiar creature known
as a social butterfly. Each day of her life friends came; or
Eileen went--mostly the latter, for Eileen had a knack of
management and she so managed her friends that, without their
realizing it, they entertained her many times while she
entertained them once. Linda went to the kitchen, Laid her books
and package of mail on the table, and, walking over to the stove,
she proceeded deliberately and heartily to kiss the cook.

"Katy, me darlin'," she said, "look upon your only child. Do you
notice a 'lean and hungry look' on her classic features?"