'
'Ah, I didn't think of that. Of course it wouldn't do. What a curious
thing it is that those who want to be written up in the papers generally
never see their names in print; while those who don't want to have
anything said about them are the people the reporters are always after.'
'Do you write for the papers, then?'
'For one of them.'
'How dreadful!' said Lady Willow, rising again, with an air of finality
about her movement. It was evident that any dealings with this American
girl were out of the question.
'Do sit down again, Lady Willow. We will take it that I am hopelessly
ineligible, and so say no more about it; but I do want to have a talk
with you.'
'But you will write something----'
'I shall not write a word about you or about anything you tell me. You
see, your profession is as strange to me as mine is to you.'
'My profession? I have none.'
'Well, whatever you call it. I mean the way in which you make your
money.'
Lady Willow sighed, and the tears came into her eyes.
'You little know, my child, to what straits one may come who is left
unprovided for, and who has to do the best to keep up appearances.'
Jennie sprang up instantly and took the unresisting hand of the elder
woman, smoothing it with her own caressingly.
'Why, of course I know,' she cried, with a little quaver in her voice;
'and there is nothing more terrible on earth than lack of money. If there
was a single really civilized country in existence, it would make
provision for its women.
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