“Then I’ll have to marry him,” said Dollie, dolefully. “There’s no other way to settle the matter.” “I’m not so sure,” said her sister, shutting her white teeth together. “There are nearly three months before the mortgage is due. I must think a little, Dollie; but hush! Here comes Miss Allyn!” Miss Allyn came in, carrying the typewriter in her arms, and for the next hour the girls almost forgot their troubles. “I’ll learn just as fast as I can,” said Dollie, clapping her hands. “And I’ll do my best to get you a position,” said Miss Allyn, kindly, “but I warn you it will be with some old codger who has a red-headed wife to look after him! You shall not have any champagne luncheons and _tete-a-tetes_ with your employer if I can prevent it!” “What do you mean?” asked both girls together. “Just this,” said Miss Allyn, with her characteristic brevity—“a pretty typewriter is often looked upon as lawful prey by some men who employ one in their private office. I know some typewriter girls who tell me that they go to business in a regular mask—don’t dare wink or smile for fear they’ll be tangled up in a divorce suit. Of course it is not so in all cases, but a working girl must keep her eyes open in a big city. There’s more temptation to the square inch than you get in ten miles in the country. Look out, girls! Take my advice, wear green veils over those pretty faces.” “Thank you for your good advice,” said Marion, sadly; “we have already learned that there are many pitfalls in the city, but with a friend like you we are forewarned, Miss Allyn. Oh, how fortunate we are to have won your sympathy.” “Nonsense!” said Miss Allyn, as she started for the door. “I’m only a poor reporter doing space work for my living. It’s not in my power to be a friend to any one except to give them a few points on the things I am most familiar with, and they are—the ways of the world and the wiles of the wicked.” She went out laughing, and just then there came a peal at the bell. Marion ran out and looked over the banisters, and then ran down to greet Mr. Ray and his sister. “Oh, I am so glad to see you!” she cried as she hugged and kissed Miss Ray—“I was so afraid you would go away without coming to see me.” Mr. Ray shook hands with Dollie and then turned to Marion. He seemed older and sadder than she had ever seen him. Not much like the gay-hearted young man who had befriended her so bravely on that eventful day when she rescued poor Dollie. “We are going abroad for a time,” he said, simply. “Now that father is dead I think it is best. A year or two abroad, and, perhaps, some of our griefs will be forgotten.” As Marion glanced at their robes of mourning she could hardly keep back the tears. These were her only friends in the big city, and now she was going to lose them. “I think you are wise,” she managed to say, at last, “poor Miss Ray will be benefited greatly by the change. It must be dreadful for her here, when every one knows of her wretched experience.”