"It's not a bad idea to keep your mouth shut, as long as your affairs are unsettled," advised Mrs. Belloc. "I can see you've had little experience. But you'll come out all right. Just keep cool, and don't fret about trifles. And don't let any man make a fool of you. That's where we women get left. We're afraid of men. We needn't be. We can mighty easily make them afraid of us. Use the soft hand till you get him well in your grip. Then the firm hand. Nothing coarse or cruel or mean. But firm and self-respecting." Mildred was tempted to take Mrs. Belloc fully into her confidence and get the benefit of the advice of shrewdness and experience. So strong was the temptation, she would have yielded to it had Mrs. Belloc asked a few tactful, penetrating questions. But Mrs. Belloc refrained, and Mildred's timidity or delicacy induced her to postpone. The next day she wrote Stanley Baird, giving her address and her name and asking him to call "any afternoon at four or five." She assumed that he would come on the following day, but the letter happened to reach him within an hour of her mailing it, and he came that very afternoon. When she went down to the drawing-room to receive him, she found him standing in the middle of the room gazing about with a quizzical expression. As soon as the greetings were over he said: "You must get out of here, Mildred. This won't do." "Indeed I shan't," said she. "I've looked everywhere, and this is the only comfortable place I could find--where the rates were reasonable and where the landlady didn't have her nose in everybody's business." "You don't understand," said he. "This is a bird-cage. Highly gilded, but a bird-cage." She had never heard the phrase, but she understood--and instantly she knew that he was right. She colored violently, sat down abruptly. But in a moment she recovered herself, and with fine defiance said: "I don't care. Mrs. Belloc is a kind-hearted woman, and it's as easy to be respectable here as anywhere." "Sure," assented he. "But you've got to consider appearances to a certain extent. You won't be able to find the right sort of a boarding-house--one you'd be comfortable in. You've got to have a flat of your own." "I can't afford it," said Mildred. "I can't afford this, even. But I simply will not live in a shabby, mussy way." "That's right!" cried Stanley. "You can't do proper work in poor surroundings. Some women could, but not your sort. But don't worry. I'm going to see you through. I'll find a place--right away. You want to start in at once, don't you?" "I've got to," said Mildred. "Then leave it all to me." "But WHAT am I to do?" "Sing, if you can. If not, then act. We'll have you on the stage within a year or so. I'm sure of it. And I'll get my money back, with interest." "I don't see how I can accept it," said Mildred very feebly.