She was more watchful of her fellow-clerks thereafter. A few girls she doubted, but striking an average, they seemed as a class honest, hard-working, and monotonously commonplace, with their loftiest ambitions centered upon tawdry and impracticable clothes. If a girl dressed better than her wage warranted, as many did, it usually developed that she lived with her parents or with other relations who gave her cheap board. These lucky beings had also a social existence denied to the wholly self-supporting, of which Jean obtained a perhaps typical glimpse through a vivacious little rattlepate at the adjoining mechanical-toy counter, with whom friendly overtures between customers led to the discovery that they were neighbors, and to a call at the three dormers. This courtesy Jean in due course returned one evening, at the paternal flat over an Eighth Avenue grocery, where "Flo," as she petitioned to be called, rejoiced in the exclusive possession of a small bedroom ventilated, though scarcely illumined, by an air-shaft. "Mother gave me this room to myself when I began to bring in money," she explained. "I only have to hand over two dollars a week. What's left I spend just as I please. Father says I buy more clothes than the rest of the family put together, and he nearly threw a fit once when I paid twelve dollars for a lace hat trimmed with imported flowers; but all the same he doesn't like to see any of the girls I go with look better than I do. Our crowd is great for dress. How do you like my cozy corner? I think these wire racks for photographs are sweet, don't you? I have such a stack of fellows' pictures! I wonder if you know any of them. The man in the dress suit is Willy Larkin--he's in the gents' furnishing department. I put him next to Dan Evans--you know Dan, don't you?--because they're so tearing jealous of each other. If Dan takes me to a Sousa concert one night, Willy can't rest till he has spread himself on vaudeville or some exciting play. They almost came to blows over a two-step I promised both of them at the subscription hop our dancing club gave New Year's. That tintype you're looking at is one Charlie Simmons and I had taken at Glen Island last year. Goodness! Don't hold _my_ face to the light. I'm a fright in a bathing-suit. I do love bathing, though, but I think salt water is packs more fun. Last summer I had enough saved for a whole week at a dandy beach near Far Rock-away. There was a grand dancing pavilion, and sometimes you could hear the waves above the band. I just love the sea!"