"Yes, he is!" scoffed Nance, derisively, but she let Monte run on at length, painting in burning terms the devastating extent of Mac's passion, his despair at losing her, his delight at finding her again, and his impatience for an interview. When Monte finished she looked at him sidewise out of her half-closed eyes. "Tell him I've gone on a visit to my rich aunt out to the sea-shore in Kansas." "Give him another show," coaxed Monte. "We were all a bit lit up that night at the ball." "No, we weren't either!" Nance flashed. "I hadn't had a thing, but one glass of beer, and you know it! I hate your old fizz-water!" "Well, make it up with Mac. He's going back to college next month, and he's wild to see you." "Tell him I haven't got time. Tell him I'm studying instrumental." Nance was fencing for time. Her cool, keen indifference gave little indication of the turmoil that was going on within. If she could manage to see Mac without letting him know where she lived, without Dan's finding it out-- The car compassed the loop and started on the return trip. "Where do we get off?" asked Monte. "I'm not getting off anywhere until after you do." "I've got lots of nickels." "I've got lots of time!" returned Nance, regardless of her former haste. At Cathedral Square, Monte rang the bell. "Have it your own way," he said good-naturedly. "But do send a message to Mac." Nance let him get off the back platform; then she put her head out of the window. "You tell him," she called, "that he can't kill two birds with one stone!" CHAPTER XXIV BACK AT CLARKE'S The promotion of Uncle Jed from the bed to a pair of crutches brought about two important changes in the house of Snawdor. First, a financial panic caused by the withdrawal of his insurance money, and, second, a lightening of Nance's home duties that sent her once more into the world to seek a living. By one of those little ironies in which life seems to delight, the only opportunity that presented itself lay directly in the path of temptation. A few days after her interview with Monte Pearce, Dan came to her with an offer to do some office work at the bottle factory. The regular stenographer was off on a vacation, and a substitute was wanted for the month of September. "Why, I thought you'd be keen about it," said Dan, surprised at her hesitation. "Oh! I'd like it all right, but--" "You needn't be afraid to tackle it," Dan urged. "Mr. Clarke's not as fierce as he looks; he'd let you go a bit slow at first." "He wouldn't have to! I bet I've got as much speed now as the girl he's had. It's not the work." "I know how you feel about the factory," said Dan, "and I wouldn't want you to go back in the finishing room. The office is different. You take my word for it; it's as nice a place as you could find."