“You—?” Lilas turned with her mouth full of hair-pins, and her hands halted in their nimble duties.

When Lorelei had made known her decision, the other girl nodded her approval.

“I don’t blame you a bit; a girl needs liberty.  I have five rooms, and a Jap to take care of them; they’re lovely.”

“I can’t afford an expensive place.”

“Well, there are some three-room flats in the rear, and—­I have it!  Gertie Moore kept one, but she’s gone on the road.  It’s all furnished, too.  Some Rah-rah boy from Columbia fixed it up for her, but they had a row, broke the engagement, and she joined out with the ‘Kissing Girls.’  If it hasn’t been sublet you can get it at your own terms.  The building is respectable, too; it’s as proper as the Ritz.  I’m dining alone to-night.  Come to dinner with me and we’ll find out all about it.”

Lorelei would have preferred a different location, not particularly desiring to be near Lilas; but there was no time in which to look about, and the necessity that faced her made any assistance welcome.  Without more discussions she agreed, and the two girls rode up-town together.

The Elegancia, where Lilas lived, was a painfully new, over-elaborate building with a Gothic front and a Gotham rear—­half its windows pasted with rental signs.  Six potted palms, a Turkish rug, and a jaundiced Jamaican elevator-boy gave an air of welcome to the ornate marble entrance-hall.

Lilas fitted a key to the first door on the right as they went in, explaining, “I’m on the ground floor, and find it very convenient.”

“This place is too grand for me,” Lorelei objected.

“Oh, offer your own price for Gertie’s flat if you like it.  They’re crazy for tenants.  If you didn’t want a furnished place you could get in rent-free.  They have to fill up these buildings to sell them.  I’ve lived for months without paying a cent, and always in a new apartment.  As soon as my lease was up and the owner wanted to renew I’d move to another house that wasn’t full.  It’s cheaper than hotels—­if you want to save money.”

Lorelei was surprised to find her friend’s quarters not only richly, but lavishly furnished.  The floors were covered with rugs of the deepest hue and richest luster; the furniture of the front room into which she was first ushered was of an inlaid foreign pattern, of which she could not guess the name or period.  There was a player-piano to match the furniture, and a cabinet of rolls.  Near by stood a specially made Victrola with an extensive selection of records.  There were bronze lamps, ravishing bits of bric-a-brac, lace curtains of which she could judge the quality, and heavy hangings, sheathed now in their summer coverings.  The decorations of the room were harmonious and bespoke a reckless disregard of cost.  A fluffy Japanese spaniel with protruding eyes and distorted visage capered deliriously at its mistress’s feet.

But the objects that intrigued the visitor most strongly were several paintings.  They were of a kind she had seldom seen, and in the afternoon light one stood out with particularly startling effect.  It was a dusky landscape; there was a stream, a meadow edge, trees just growing black against a dying sunset, a herd of cattle coming out of the west.  Before this picture Lorelei paused, staring with wide eyes of wonder.