At the end of the first month word came from Mrs. Purdy that she had succeeded in obtaining Dan's release, and that he was back at work at Clarke's, and on probation again. This news, instead of making Nance restless for her own freedom, had quite the opposite effect. Now that her worry over Dan was at an end, she resigned herself cheerfully to the business of being reformed. The presiding genius of Forest Home was Miss Stanley, the superintendent. She did not believe in high fences or uniforms or bodily punishment. She was tall, handsome, and serene, and she treated the girls with the same grave courtesy with which she treated the directors. Nance regarded her with something of the worshipful awe she had once felt before an image of the Virgin Mary. "She don't make you 'fraid exactly," she confided to Birdie. "She makes you 'shamed." "You can tell she's a real lady the way she shines her finger-nails," said Birdie, to whom affairs of the toilet were of great importance. "Another way you can tell," Nance added, trying to think the thing out for herself, "is the way she takes slams. You an' me sass back, but a real lady knows how to hold her jaw an' make you eat dirt just the same." They were standing side by side at a long table in a big, clean kitchen, cutting out biscuit for supper. Other white-capped, white-aproned girls, all intent upon their own tasks, were flitting about, and a teacher sat at a desk beside the window, directing the work. The two girls had fallen into the habit of doing their chores together and telling each other secrets. Birdie's had mostly to do with boys, and it was not long before Nance felt called upon to make a few tentative observations on the same engrossing subject. "The prettiest boy I ever seen--" she said, "I mean I have ever saw"--then she laughed helplessly. "Well, anyhow, he was that Clarke feller. You know, the one that got pinched fer smashin' the window the first time we was had up?" "Mac Clarke? Sure, I know him. He's fresh all right." Birdie did not go into particulars, but she looked important. "Say, Birdie," Nance asked admiringly, "when you git out of here, what you goin' to do?" "I'll tell you what I _ain't_ going to do," said Birdie, impressively, in a low voice, "I ain't going to stand in a store, and I ain't going out to work, and I ain't going to work at Clarke's!" "But what else is left to do?" "Swear you won't tell?" Nance crossed her heart with a floury finger. "I'm going to be a actress," said Birdie. It was fortunate for Nance that Birdie's term at the home soon ended. She was at that impressionable age which reflects the nearest object of interest, and shortly after Birdie's departure she abandoned the idea of joining her on the professional boards, and decided instead to become a veterinary surgeon.