“Haven’t had your dinner yet?”

“No; just arrived in the cars, and came right here.”

“You must have something to eat, then.  I know a nice place; often get dinner there when I’m out.”

The girl did not feel wholly at ease.  She had not yet been able to get sight of Pinky’s closely-veiled features, and there was something in her voice that made her feel uncomfortable.

“I don’t care for any dinner,” she said; “I’m not hungry.”

“Well, I am, then, so come.  Do you like oysters?”

“Yes.”

“Cook them splendidly.  Best place in the city.  And you’d like to get into a store or learn a trade?”

“Yes.”

“What trade did you think of?”

“None in particular.”

“How would you like to get into a book-bindery?  I know two or three girls in binderies, and they can make from five to ten dollars a week.  It’s the nicest, cleanest work I know of.”

“Oh, do you?” returned Flora, with newly-awakening interest.

“Yes; we’ll talk it all over while we’re eating dinner.  This way.”

And Pinky turned the corner of a small street that led away from the more crowded thoroughfare along which they had been passing.

“It’s a quiet and retired place, where only the nicest kind of people go,” she added.  “Many working-girls and girls in stores get their dinners there.  We’ll meet some of them, no doubt; and if any that I know should happen in, we might hear of a good place.  Just the thing, isn’t it?  I’m right glad I met you.”

They had gone halfway down the square, when Pinky stopped before the shop of a confectioner.  In the window was a display of cakes, pies and candies, and a sign with the words, “LADIES’ RESTAURANT.”

“This is the place,” she said, and opening the door, passed in, the young stranger following.

A sign of caution, unseen by Flora, was made to a girl who stood behind the counter.  Then Pinky turned, saying,

“How will you have your oysters? stewed, fried, broiled or roasted?”

“I’m not particular—­any way,” replied Flora.

“I like them fried.  Will you have them the same way?”

Flora nodded assent.

“Let them be fried, then.  Come, we’ll go up stairs.  Anybody there?”

“Two or three only.”

“Any girls from the bindery?”

“Yes; I think so.”

“Oh.  I’m glad of that!  Want to see some of them.  Come, Miss Bond.”

And Pinky, after a whispered word to the attendant, led the way to a room up stairs in which were a number of small tables.  At one of these were two girls eating, at another a girl sitting by herself, and at another a young man and a girl.  As Pinky and her companion entered, the inmates of the room stared at them familiarly, and then winked and leered at each other.  Flora did not observe this, but she felt a sudden oppression and fear.  They sat down at a table not far from one of the windows.  Flora looked for the veil to be removed, so that she might see the face of her new friend.  But Pinky kept it closely down.