" Maybe you can,” went on Drouet, " if you stay here.  You can’t if you go away.  They won’t let you stay out there.  Now, why not let me get you a nice room?  I won’t bother you needn’t be afraid.  Then, when you get fixed up, maybe you could get something.”

He looked at her pretty face and vivified his mental resources.  She was a sweet little mortal to him-there was no doubt of that.  She seemed to have some power back of her actions.  She was not like the common run of store-girls.  She wasn’t silly.

In reality, Carrie had more imagination than he-more taste.  It was a finer mental strain in her that made possible her depression and loneliness.  Her poor clothes were neat, and she held her head unconsciously in a dainty way.

" Do you think I could get something?” she asked.

" Sure,” he said, reaching over and filling her cup with tea. " I’ll help you.”

She looked at him, and he laughed reassuringly.

" Now I’ll tell you what we’ll do.  We’ll go over her to Partridge’s and you pick out what you want.  The we’ll look around for a room for you.  You can leave the things there.  Then we’ll go to the show to-night.”

Carrie shook her head.

" We’ll, you can go out to the flat them, that’s all right You don’t need to stay in the room.  Just take it and leave your things there.”

She hung in doubt about this until the dinner was over.

" Let’s go over and look at the jackets,” he said.

Together they went.  In the store they found that shine and rustle of new things which immediately laid hold of Carrie’s heart.  Under the influence of a good dinner and Drouet’s radiating presence, the scheme proposed seemed feasible.  She looked about and picked a jacket like the one which she had admired at The Fair.  When she got it in her hand it seemed so much nicer.  The saleswoman helped her on with it, and, by accident it fitted perfectly.  Drouet’s face lightened as he saw the improvement.  She looked quite smart.

" That’s the thing,” he said.

Carrie turned before the glass.  She could not help feeling pleased as she looked at herself.  A warm glow crept into her cheeks.

" That’s the thing,” said Drouet. " Now pay for it.”

" It’s nine dollar,” said Carrie.

" That’s all right-take it,” said Drouet.

She reached in her purse and took out one of the bills.  The woman asked if she would wear the coat and went off.  In a few minutes she was back and the purchase was closed.

From Partridge’s they went to a shoe store, where Carrie was fitted for shoes.  Drouet stood by, and when he saw how nice they looked, said, " Wear them.”  Carrie shook her head, however.  She was thinking of running to the flat.  He brought her a purse for one thing and a pair of gloves for another, and let her buy the stockings.

" To-morrow,” he said, " you come down here and buy yourself a skirt.” 
        In all of Carrie’s actions there was a touch of misgiving.  The
deeper she sank into the entanglement, the more she imagined that the thing hung upon the few remaining things she had not done.  Since she had not done these, there was a way out.