Of course, she was not at ease in this life of dreamy idleness.  It did not need the taunts of her father to convince her that she ought to be doing something for herself.  Her millionaire would never come down to the little house on Dean Street to find her, and she had conscience enough to feel that she ought to earn her own clothes.  She tried to make use of the accomplishments she had learned at school, but was astonished to find how useless they were.  She made several attempts to be a teacher, but it was soon found that her high-school diploma covered a world of ignorance, and no board, however indulgent, would accept her services.  She got a box of colors, and spoiled many fans and disfigured many pots by decorations which made the eyes of the beholder ache; nobody would buy them, and poor Maud had no acquaintances to whom she might give them away.  So they encumbered the mantels and tables of her home, adding a new tedium to the unhappy household.  She answered the advertisements of several publishing companies, and obtained agencies for the sale of subscription books.  But her face was not hard enough for this work.  She was not fluent enough to persuade the undecided, and she was too proud to sue in forma pauperis; she had not the precious gift of tears, by which the travelling she-merchant sells so many worthless wares.  The few commissions she gained hardly paid for the wear and tear of her high-heeled boots.

One day at the public library she was returning a novel she had read, when a gentleman came out of an inner room and paused to speak to the librarian’s assistant, with whom Maud was at the moment occupied—­a girl whom she had known at school, and with whom she had renewed acquaintance in this way.  It was about a matter of the administration of the library, and only a few words were exchanged.  He then bowed to both the ladies, and went out.

“Who was that?” Maud asked.

“Don’t you know?” rejoined the other.  “I thought everybody knew the elegant Captain Farnham.  He is president of our board, you know, and he is just lovely.  I always manage to stop him as he leaves a board meeting and get a word or two out of him.  It’s worth the trouble if I only get a bow.”

“I should think so,” assented Maud.  “He is as sweet as a peach.  Is there any chance of getting one of those places?  I should like to divide those bows with you.”

“That would be perfectly splendid,” said her friend, who was a good-natured girl.  “Come, I will introduce you to the old Doctor now.”

And in a moment Maud was in the presence of the librarian.