Mrs. Belloc had not gone out, had been waiting in a fever of anxiety. When Mildred came into her sitting-room with a gloomy face and dropped to a chair as if her last hope had abandoned her, it was all Agnes Belloc could do to restrain her tears. Said she: "Don't be foolish, my dear. You couldn't expect anything to come of your first attempt." "That isn't it," said Mildred. "I think I'll give it up--do something else. Grand opera's bad enough. There were a lot of things about it that I was fighting my distaste for." "I know," said Agnes. "And you'd better fight them hard. They're unworthy of you." "But--musical comedy! It's--frightful!" "It's an honest way of making a living, and that's more than can be said of--of some things. I suppose you're afraid you'll have to wear tights--or some nonsense like that." "No, no. It's doing it at all. Such rotten music--and what a loathsome mess!" Mrs. Belloc's eyes flashed. "I'm losing all patience!" she cried. "I know you've been brought up like a fool and always surrounded by fools. I suppose you'd rather sell yourself to some man. Do you know what's the matter with you, at bottom? Why, you're lazy and you're a coward. Too lazy to work. And afraid of what a lot of cheap women'll say--women earning their board and clothes in about the lowest way such a thing can be done. Haven't you got any self-respect?" Mildred rose. "Mrs. Belloc," she said angrily, "I can't permit even you to say such things to me." "The shoe seems to fit," retorted Mrs. Belloc. "I never yet saw a lady, a real, silk-and-diamonds, sit-in-the-parlor lady, who had any self-respect. If I had my way they wouldn't get a mouthful to eat till they had earned it. That'd be a sure cure for the lady disease. I'm ashamed of you, Miss Stevens! And you're ashamed of yourself." "Yes, I am," said Mildred, with a sudden change of mood. "The best thing you can do is to rest till lunch-time. Then start out after lunch and hunt a job. I'll go with you." "But I've got a job," said Mildred. "That's what's the matter." Agnes Belloc's jaw dropped and her rather heavy eyebrows shot up toward the low sweeping line of her auburn hair. She made such a ludicrous face that Mildred laughed outright. Said she: "It's quite time. Fifty a week, for three weeks of rehearsal. No doubt _I_ can go on if I like. Nothing could be easier." "Crossley?" "Yes. He was very nice--heard me sing three pieces--and it was all settled. I'm to begin to-morrow." The color rose in Agnes Belloc's face until she looked apoplectic. She abruptly retreated to her bedroom. After a few minutes she came back, her normal complexion restored. "I couldn't trust myself to speak," said she. "That was the worst case of ingratitude I ever met up with. You, getting a place at fifty dollars a week--and on your first trial--and you come in looking as if you'd lost your money and your reputation. What kind of a girl are you, anyway?"