It was an incoherent tale; he had told her that she didn’t know how to dress, that he wouldn’t be seen in a public place with her, that at _her_ age she shouldn’t try to wear pink. Told her she looked vulgar. That he couldn’t see a trace in her conversation of the brains he imagined were required in novel writing. Frances was exasperated. “Why in the world do you bother with him!” she cried. “He’s--I’m sure you’re deceived in him. Why don’t you let him go?” Miss Eppendorfer began to weep anew. “I love him!” she declared. And seeing Frankie’s shocked face, she added, with humane motive, “We’re going to be married!” Frances believed it. CHAPTER ELEVEN I After this, Miss Eppendorfer was not able to make any further objection to Frankie’s study. “I may as well tell you now,” said Frankie, “that I shan’t--I couldn’t stay with you after you’re married to that man.” “But it won’t be for a long time,” Miss Eppendorfer protested. A very long time indeed! Dimly, in her muddled head, she realised how much she wanted and needed Frankie, even foresaw the day when Mr. Kurt Hassler would go the way of other men to whom she had been so generous, and she would be quite alone. She tried to bribe her not to learn shorthand, she didn’t want her to be able to find another place; she said it would tire her, hurt her eyes, everything she could imagine. Frances was firm. “You’re not alone in the evenings now,” she said, “and I’ve got to think of my own future.” “I’ll always look after you----” “I don’t want to be looked after, thank you. Please don’t be unreasonable!” Miss Eppendorfer cried a little and consented. II Frances found it a curious experience. She wrote home to Minnie, after the first week: “I’m a sort of grandmother here in the business school. All the rest are little girls with pigtails and hair ribbons, and little boys in short trousers. You can imagine how I feel, so old and sedate. And even in size! They’re all so stunted. I tower above my tiny desk. I’m taller even than any of the teachers, and quite a different colour, at least five degrees redder. “I thought I knew something about typing, but I’ve had to start all over again, and learn the ‘touch system.’ And shorthand! Oh, Minnie! I’m so stupid, you can’t think. The others learn like eager little trained animals. They can’t speak decently, or spell, of course, but what does that matter? They can put down on paper what they hear someone say, and copy it off, without the trouble of understanding. I foresee that I shall be here for years while all the little boys and girls pass on and out, and become bank presidents.” It was quite true that she wasn’t quick at learning her new trade. She was studious by nature, and painstaking, but her hand was not ready. She was more discouraged than she cared to tell.