And with that they both burst into tears....  When Claire recovered herself she found that Nellie Whitehead had escaped.  She lit the gas and opened her palm.  Four twenty-dollar gold pieces glistened in the light.

* * * * *

Next morning Claire received a telephone message from Mrs. Condor.  The position of accompanist was hers at forty dollars a month if she desired it.

“It won’t be hard,” Mrs. Condor had finished, reassuringly.  “Some weeks I’ve something on nearly every night.  And then again there won’t be anything doing for days....  How can I afford to pay so much?  Well, my dear, that is a secret.  But don’t worry, you’ll earn it....”

And toward the close of the week there came another surprise for Claire in the shape of a letter from Stillman, which ran: 

    MY DEAR MISS ROBSON.—­I am going to take a little flier at the bean
    market.

That was my father’s business and I know a few things about it—­at least to the extent of recognizing the commodity when the sack is opened.  Do you fancy you could arrange to give me a few hours a week at the typewriter?  If so, we can get together and arrange terms.

    Cordially,

    EDWARD STILLMAN.

“At last,” flashed through Claire’s mind, “he’s going in for something worth while.”

This time she decided promptly.  Over the telephone she made an appointment with Stillman, in his apartments, for beginning work on the second Wednesday in January.

CHAPTER XI

Shortly after the first of the year Claire received her initial summons from Lily Condor—­they were to appear at a concert in the Colonial Ballroom of the St. Francis for the Belgian relief.  Mrs. Condor had intimated that the affair was to be smart, and so it proved.  It was set at a very late and very fashionable hour, and all through the program groups of torpid, though rather audible, diners kept drifting in.  Claire was not slow to discover that Lily Condor was first on the bill, and she remembered reading somewhere in a newspaper that among professionals the first and last place were always loathsome positions.  Judging from the noise and confusion that accompanied their efforts, Claire could well understand why this was so, and she expected to find Lily Condor resentful.  But to her surprise Mrs. Condor merely shrugged her shoulders and said: 

“What difference does it make?  They don’t come to listen, anyway.  Besides, I always open the bill.  I like to get it over quickly.”

But Claire had reason to suspect, as she followed the remainder of a very excellent program, that the choice of position did not rest with Mrs. Condor.  Claire began to wonder how much money Mrs. Condor received for an effort like this.  And she became more puzzled as she gathered from the conversation of the other artists about her that the talent had been furnished gratuitously.