After that illness and before she began to go about, she had fallen into several fits of hideous blues, had been in despair as to the future. As soon as she saw something of people--always the valuable, musical sort of people--her spirits improved. And when she got a few new dresses--very simple and inexpensive, but stylish and charming--and the hats, too, were successful--as soon as she was freshly arrayed she was singing better and was talking hopefully of the career again. Yes, it was really necessary that she live as she had always been used to living. When Stanley came back her account was drawn up to the last cent of the proportionate amount. In fact, it might have been a few dollars--a hundred or so--overdrawn. She was not sure. Still, that was a small matter. During the summer she would spend less, and by fall she would be far ahead again--and ready to buy fall clothes. One day he said: "You must be needing more money." "No indeed," cried she. "I've been living within the hundred a week--or nearly. I'm afraid I'm frightfully extravagant, and--" "Extravagant?" laughed he. "You are afraid to borrow! Why, three or four nights of singing will pay back all you've borrowed." "I suppose I WILL make a lot of money," said she. "They all tell me so. But it doesn't seem real to me." She hastily added: "I don't mean the career. That seems real enough. I can hardly wait to begin at the roles. I mean the money part. You see, I never earned any money and never really had any money of my own." "Well, you'll have plenty of it in two or three years," said Stanley, confidently. "And you mustn't try to live like girls who've been brought up to hardship. It isn't necessary, and it would only unfit you for your work." "I think that's true," said she. "But I've enough--more than enough." She gave him a nervous, shy, almost agonized look. "Please don't try to put me under any heavier obligations than I have to be." "Please don't talk nonsense about obligation," retorted he. "Let's get away from this subject. You don't seem to realize that you're doing me a favor, that it's a privilege to be allowed to help develop such a marvelous voice as yours. Scores of people would jump at the chance." "That doesn't lessen my obligation," said she. And she thought she meant it, though, in fact, his generous and plausible statement of the case had immediately lessened not a little her sense of obligation.