“Looking up my record at home, maybe, though Mr. Robert Lucas’ letter ought to be enough for him,” thought Cis. “Goodness, if he shouldn’t take me at all! I’ll be dippy if I hang around after Monday; all I can do to hold out till then! If I don’t get into Mr. Lucas’ office, I’ll have to take a job at anything, good or bad; I’ll kick the stall out if I’m left standing any longer. Besides, I can’t stay on at $5.00 per, at the Beacon Head longer than that; $35.00 is my limit to spend on loafing--and I haven’t had my money’s worth so far!” Cis realized, as she had not done, how much she had depended upon companionship. She had earned her living among girls, some of whom she had liked, some disliked, to the great majority of whom she had been indifferent; but they were quick-witted, full of life and spirits; “they kept things moving,” Cis told herself, and the days spent without anyone to speak to except a hotel clerk, a chambermaid, waiter and bell boy, grew oppressive. Cis tried to talk to some of the attractive girls who were always to be met in the lobby, the elevator, in the dining room, but all of them froze up when she made advances to them; all but one replied to her small talk, but replied so forbiddingly that Cis did not persist. “Afraid I may be the wrong sort and that it’ll come off!” thought Cis. “Idiots! How do you ever get anywhere in this world if you tote a shell around, like a snail? Miss a lot if you don’t try people out first, and freeze up afterward, provided you find them the kind that needs dropping! I wanted to jar poor Mrs. Dowling when I said what I did about picking up boy acquaintances, but it’s the truth, nevertheless. I’m going to look around for a nice fellow and try him out, see if he won’t be bold enough to risk a decent answer. I’ve got to get someone started, that’s sure! This hotel and town are getting to feel like a diving bell, ’way down below human noises.” With deliberate intention to carry out her plan, purvey to her need, Cis scanned the male portion of her fellow-guests in the hotel for the rest of that day and evening, but none measured up to her requirement. They were a lot of average young Americans, but the frank face, the businesslike air, the quality of manliness that conveyed the ability to understand and meet her like a fellow-being, not like a girl seeking attentions, seemed to Cis wanting to them all. She went to bed lonely and discouraged, somewhat inclined to tears, but so healthy-minded that she quickly fell asleep instead of crying. Her last waking thought was that if Beaconhite showed her no jolly, sensible girls, no friendly, chummy boys, it was no place for Cis Adair, and that she might move on by Monday, Mr. Lucas or no Mr. Lucas.