"_Please_ don't tread on my new Ararat!" Dorothy cried in fright. "Sorry; my fault for leaving it there.... The studio? Oh, I'm under Miss Benson, of course; it would be a shame to turn her out of a job, and Miss Umpleby would come next anyway; so I just potter along. As a matter of fact, I'm only in the studio about half my time; it's much more fun downstairs, talking over ideas with Mr. Miller. You wouldn't suppose, would you, Amory," she said suddenly, both earnestly and excitedly, "that as I stand here now, filling this teapot, I've got an idea worth--I don't know how much, but certainly Doubledays' would give me a thousand for it, if Hallowells' won't take it, and I should want a pretty stiff contract even then?" With her hair all rumpled by the Ararat cap and her feet in Cosimo's old slippers she certainly did not look worth a thousand. "Sorry I can't tell you what it is," she went on, setting down the teapot, thumbing a hard half-loaf and selecting a softer one. "I haven't told Mr. Miller yet. We have to choose our time for these things; wait for the ripe moment. Wait till Hallowells' get their last storey up and the roof on, then we'll see. Mr. Miller thinks I'm just a person who makes a useful suggestion now and then, and I let him think so; but wait a bit. Something better than Benny's place for me!"---- "But--but--I don't understand. Is this fashion-drawing?" Amory asked. "Oh, dear no!" Dorothy replied, drawing up a chair to the table. "Let it stand a minute first--stir it with a spoon.... I don't mean fashion-drawing now. You see, Hallowells' are going to wake London up. Mr. Miller's pretty good at his job--waking London up--in other words, advertising, and I'm only a fashion-artist a long as there's nothing better going. It will probably come off next Spring--depends how they get on with the building; and I'll buy a picture from you then, Amory." Amory had smiled. Oh, advertisement! She had thought that Dorothy could hardly mean that she was going to make all this money out of fashion-drawing! Advertisements--those funny things that Aunt Jerry was getting! Amory smiled again.