now she was not sure just how much she had left. She counted, slowly, one ten dollar bill, three fives, a two dollar bill, nine ones, and two silver dollars. It looked a lot as she went over it again to make sure, thirty-eight dollars, and with the three sixty-five it made forty-one dollars and sixty-five cents. Of course the ten dollar gold piece made it fifty-one in all, but she was not counting that. That was to be saved at all hazards for the thing that she wanted most as a gift from her mother. Not unless life itself were endangered would she touch it, she resolved. But forty-one dollars ought to keep her if she were careful until she could earn more. It didn’t look a lot when one considered that she was starting in the world, but just suppose she hadn’t anything. Girls had been in a predicament like that before. God was good to her. She would have to save every cent carefully, and get a job of some sort at once. She must not waste a day. Jobs were not easy to find, either, when one could give no references. She would not dare give references because somehow Eugene would make things unpleasant for her. No one must find out where she was. She realized that Eugene and Nannette felt that they had a good thing in her to do their work and look after the children, while they went around and had a good time, and that they would not easily let her go. They would not stop at talking a little against her if by so doing they could lose her a job and bring her back to take care of them. This conclusion had been forcing itself upon her for some time slowly, and had been fully revealed by their actions of the day before. She did not want to make any trouble, nor any talk in the town, but she was fully resolved not to go back to them. She felt that if Aunt Mary were here now, in the light of all the things that had been said to her since the funeral, she would not advise her to remain there. Indeed, there had been hints now and then before Aunt Mary was so sick, such as “If you should ever consider it advisable not to live with Gene and Nan, dear,” or “You can’t tell what may develop when you get to teaching. I know Nan isn’t easy to get along with--.” But these were only hints, and Aunt Mary had expected to get well. They all had expected her to, until the last three weeks of her illness. Joyce had shrunk from talking about the possibilities of death, and so it seemed had Aunt Mary. After all, it was her responsibility now, and she was doing what seemed the best for all. She could never live in Eugene’s house. Her breath seemed stifled. How could she study and have her light watched every night? How could she be hampered in her comings and goings if she were to earn her own living? No, she had been right to come away. Perhaps the break might have been done more formally, not precipitated in such a headlong way, that was her greatest fault to jump headlong into a situation, but even so it would likely have been harder.