I winced. For the first time the "practical" view of what I've been doing for the Burkes stared me in the face--that is, the view which such people as the Tevises, perhaps many of my friends, took of it. So I was being regarded, spoken of, discussed, as a person who had been bought by the Burkes to get them in with certain people. And it was assumed that, having got what they wanted, they would dismiss me and so cut off a superfluous expense! I was somewhat astonished at myself for not having seen my position in this light before. And I suddenly realized why I hadn't--because the Burkes were really nice people, because I hadn't been their employee but their friend. What if I had started my career as a dependent of Mrs. Tevis'! I shivered. And when the Burkes should need me no longer--why, the probabilities were that I should have to seek employment from just such dreadful people as these--upstarts eager to jam themselves in, vulgarians whom icy manners and forbidding looks only influence to fiercer efforts to associate with those who don't wish to associate with them. Mrs. Tevis interrupted my dismal thoughts with a cough, intended to be polite. "What--what--compensation would you expect, may I ask?" "What do such positions pay?" I said, and my voice sounded harsh to me. I wished to know what value was usually put upon such services. "Would--say--twenty-five dollars a week be--meet with your views?" she asked, and her tone was that of a person performing an act of astounding generosity. "Oh, dear me, no," said I, with the kind of sweetness that coats a pill of gall. "I couldn't think of trying to get you in for any such sum as that." I saw that the gall had bit through the sugar-coat. "Would you object to giving me some idea of what the Burkes pay?" she asked, with the taste puckering her mouth. "I should," I replied, rising. "Anyhow, I don't care to undertake the job. Thank you so much for your generosity and kindness, Mrs. Tevis." I nodded--I'm afraid it was a nod intended to "put her in her place." "Good-by." And I smiled and got myself out of the room before she recovered. I _wish_ I hadn't seen her. I hate the truth--it's always unpleasant. February 5. Mrs. Burke had thirty-one invitations to-day, eleven of them for her and Mr. Burke. Seven were invitations to little affairs which Mrs. Tevis would give--well, perhaps five dollars apiece--to get to. How ridiculous for her to economize in the one way in which liberality is most necessary. Here they are spending probably a hundred thousand dollars a season in hopeless attempts to do that which they would hesitate to pay me six hundred dollars for doing. And this when they think I could accomplish it. But could I? I guess not. To win out as I have with the Burkes you've got to have the right sort of material to work on, and it must be workable. Vulgar people would be ashamed to put themselves in any one's hands as completely as Mrs. Burke put herself in my hands.