Anna the Adventuress

"Well," Mrs. White said slowly, "it depends a good deal upon what

rooms you have. Just now my best ones are all taken."

"So much the better," Anna declared cheerfully. "The smallest will do

for me quite well."

Mrs. White looked mysteriously about the room as though to be sure

that no one was listening.

"I should like you to come here," she said. "It's a great deal for a

young lady who's alone in the world, as I suppose you are at present,

to have a respectable home, and I do not think in such a case that

private apartments are at all desirable. We have a very nice set of

young people here too just at present, and you would soon make some

friends. I will take you for thirty-five shillings a week. Please

don't let any one know that."

"I have no idea what it costs to live in London," Anna said, "but I

should like very much to come for a short time if I might."

"Certainly," Mrs. White said. "Two days' notice shall be sufficient on

either side."

"And I may bring my luggage in and send that cabman away?" Anna asked.

"Dear me, what a relief! If I had had any nerves that man would have

trampled upon them long ago."

"Cabmen are so trying," Mrs. White assented. "You need have no further

trouble. The manservant shall bring your trunks in and pay the fare

too, if you like."

Anna drew out her purse at once.

"You are really a good Samaritan," she declared. "I am perfectly

certain that that man meant to be rude to me. He has been bottling it

up all the way from West Kensington."

Mrs. White rang the bell.

"Come upstairs," she said, "and I will show you your room. And would

you mind hurrying a little. You won't want to be late the first

evening, and it's ten minutes past seven now. Gracious, there's the

gong. This way, my dear--and--you'll excuse my mentioning it, but a

quiet blouse and a little chiffon, you know, will be quite sufficient.

It's your first evening, and early impressions do count for so much.

You understand me, I'm sure."

Anna was a little puzzled, but she only laughed.

"Perhaps, as I've only just arrived," she remarked, "I might be

forgiven if I do not change my skirt. I packed so hurriedly that it

will take me a long time to find my things."

"Certainly," Mrs. White assured her. "Certainly. I'll mention it.

You're tired, of course. This is your room. The gong will go at

seven-thirty. Don't be late if you can help it."

* * * * * Anna was not late, but her heart sank within her when she entered the

drawing-room. It was not a hopeful looking group. Two or three

podgy-looking old men with wives to match, half-a-dozen overdressed

girls, and a couple of underdressed American ones, who still wore the

clothes in which they had been tramping half over London since

breakfast time. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of

pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some

unintelligible jargon of the City. What had she to do with such as

these? She had hard work to keep a smiling face, as Mrs. White, who

had risen to greet her, proceeded with a formal, and from Anna's point

of view, a wholly unnecessary round of introductions. And then

suddenly--a relief. A young man--almost a boy, slight, dark, and with

his brother's deep grey eyes--came across the room to her.