So much for her practical training. She knew all the inconveniences and anxieties of an insufficient and variable income. But she also knew the unselfishness, the affectionate give-and-take of a big family. She knew what miracles the loving patience of her mother daily performed. She knew the selflessness of her father, which kept him at the treadmill of his profession that his children might have an education, might have their chance. Hospitality, kindness, love; these were of the very fibre of Ann's being. It was part of the trick Fate played on her that Wally's offer had come to her the first week she was in New York, when the terror of the Big Town had just laid hold of her. New York, contemplated from Vermont, was the city of all opportunity; but New York, face to face, with a financial reserve of fifty dollars, was a very different matter. Isabelle had amazed and interested her, and Wally had offered her what seemed a fabulous salary. No wonder she had seized the opportunity, with happy plans of sending the first check home, intact. But daily for the first week, amidst the undreamed-of luxuries of The Beeches she felt that she must run away, back to the things she knew and understood. And yet every day brought her evidences of Isabelle's need of her, and Ann's intrinsic sense of fairness made her feel that somebody ought to stand by the child. Her first interview with Mrs. Bryce did not occur until the second day after her arrival. She waited to be summoned all of the first day, but heard nothing, saw nothing of her new employer. The second day she sent word asking for a conference. She was given an audience while Mrs. Bryce's maid was dressing her to go out to lunch. She nodded casually to Ann. "You wanted to see me?" "Yes; I--I thought we would better talk over your plans for Isabelle." "I haven't any plans for her. My only desire is to keep her out of the way." "But I don't know what she is permitted to do," Ann began. "She is permitted to do anything she wants to," laughed Mrs. Bryce. "But that isn't good for her"--earnestly. Mrs. Bryce's glance at the girl was full of scornful amusement. "No, but it's good for the rest of us. We can't live in the house with her otherwise." Ann stared. She did not know how to cope with this kind of woman. Mrs. Bryce made her feel a clumsy fool, a sort of country bumpkin. "This isn't my job anyway, it's Wally's. He is guiding Isabelle's destiny this summer. Didn't he tell you?" "Yes, but I thought the child's mother would naturally want to say----" blundered Ann. "Well, her mother doesn't. Do anything you can to make her less of a nuisance, that's my only advice." It was clear that the interview was ended, so Ann rose. With glowing appeal Mrs. Bryce turned her pretty face, with its sudden smile, upon the girl. "Nice, kind Miss Barnes, don't bother me about Isabelle, will you? She bores me to death."