'No; but by that time I had some real education--an unpaid hotel bill, and not a shilling in the world. Some girls think it hardship to have to earn their living. The horror is not to be allowed to.' Jean bent forward. 'What happened?' Lady John stood up. 'My dear,' she asked her visitor, 'have your things been sent down?' 'Yes. I am quite ready, all but my hat.' 'Well?' insisted Jean. 'Well, by chance I met a friend of my family.' 'That was lucky.' 'I thought so. He was nearly ten years older than I. He said he wanted to help me.' Again she paused. 'And didn't he?' Jean asked. Lady John laid her hand on Miss Levering's shoulder. 'Perhaps, after all, he did,' she said. 'Why do I waste time over myself? I belonged to the little class of armed women. My body wasn't born weak, and my spirit wasn't broken by the _habit_ of slavery. But, as Mrs. Heriot was kind enough to hint, I do know something about the possible fate of homeless girls. What was true a dozen years ago is true to-day. There are pleasant parks, museums, free libraries in our great rich London, and not one single place where destitute women can be sure of work that isn't killing, or food that isn't worse than prison fare. That's why women ought not to sleep o' nights till this Shelter stands spreading out wide arms.' 'No, no,' said the girl, jumping up. 'Even when it's built,'--Mrs. Heriot was angrily gathering up her gloves, her fan and her Prayer-book--'you'll see! Many of those creatures will prefer the life they lead. They _like_ it. A woman told me--one of the sort that knows--told me many of them like it so much that they are indifferent to the risk of being sent to prison. "_It gives them a rest_,"' she said. 'A rest!' breathed Lady John, horror-struck. Miss Levering glanced at the clock as she rose to go upstairs, while Lady John and Mrs. Heriot bent their heads over the plan covertly talking. Jean ran forward and caught the tall grey figure on the lower step. 'I want to begin to understand something of----,' she began in a beseeching tone. 'I'm horribly ignorant.' Miss Levering looked down upon her searchingly. 'I'm a rather busy person,' she said. 'I have a quite special reason for wanting _not_ to be ignorant. I'll go to town to-morrow,' said Jean, impulsively, 'if you'll come and lunch with me--or let me come to you.' 'Jean!' It was Aunt Lydia's voice. 'I must go and put my hat on,' said Miss Levering, hurrying up the stair. Mrs. Heriot bent towards her sister and half whispered, 'How little she minds talking about horrors!' 'They turn me cold. Ugh! I wonder if she's signed the visitor's book.' Lady John rose with harassed look. 'Such foolishness John's new plan of keeping it in the lobby. It's twice as likely to be forgotten.' 'For all her Shelter schemes, she's a hard woman,' said Aunt Lydia. 'Miss Levering is!' exclaimed Jean. 'Oh, of course _you_ won't think so. She has angled very adroitly for your sympathy.'