Though such a careless existence appealed to Lilly's fancy, she harboured some small doubts. In the first place the clamouring, threatening duns that had besieged their home after papa's departure were still fresh in her shuddering memory. Then she did not see quite clearly where so many students, enough to fill a nine-room apartment, were suddenly to come from after the beginning of the summer semester, since all had secured quarters already. But her mother would listen to no objections. "I will go to the directors, I will go to the mayor, I will--" and the attic room resounded with the new triumphant, "I will--" Now began a series of mysterious expeditions. Frequently, when Lilly returned from school, she could tell at the bottom of the stairs that the machine, whose industrious clatter had greeted her for years, was at a standstill, and she would find the key to the room under the door-mat. As the time drew near for the great event, the mother became more taciturn. A crafty smile lay on her face, which, but for an admixture of scorn, was like the smile parents wear before Christmas. She painted her cheeks more carefully than ever, and the jar of rouge, which previously she had kept locked away from Lilly, reposed unabashed on the top of the chest. But money grew rapidly scarcer. Lilly had to give up every minute she could spare from school work to make up for her mother's remissness, while Mrs. Czepanek went about calculating and speculating. She put her foot to the treadle only on rare occasions, when Lilly pled with her urgently. The delivery of finished articles became more and more irregular, and the two women were in danger of losing their entire means of subsistence. Lilly's vast hoard of youthful strength threatened to give out. Yet this did not cause her overmuch concern. "Something'll turn up," she thought. If only she could have gotten one good night's rest, instead of lying dressed on the edge of the bed from two to six in the morning, she would not have grudged her mother her youthful intoxication born of young hopes. Lilly sat in school with tired, reddened eyes, a filmy veil between her and the world, between her and the thoughts she was expected to think. Her teachers began to find fault with her. It was high time for the new life to begin. It began on a hot, drab July day. On returning from school Lilly saw two waggons standing outside the door loaded with furniture smelling of fresh varnish. Even before she set foot on the lowest step she could hear her mother's shrill voice apparently raised in altercation with strangers.