It was not a question, but an assertion. Mary fought against a sob.

"N-no luck," she managed.

"Never mind. You'll have better luck very soon."

"I—I'll never have any luck. I'm doomed. I—oh, it's so silly of me—but I haven't any references."

A hand was slipped within Mary's arm; she felt a gentle pressure of reassurance.

"Don't let luck down you," said the lucky one. "It always changes. Mine did; so will yours. I've just had a wonderful piece of luck and it doesn't seem right that somebody else should be unhappy."

[Pg 8]

[Pg 8]

"But you had ref—ref—references. I heard."

"Yes, my dear; I had references. They're good things to have. Come—cheer up. I've simply got to celebrate. Please come and have lunch with me. Honestly, I insist."

Mary looked wonderingly at the girl with the magic key. She wiped her eyes bravely, then shook her head.

"I'll—I'll be all right. Thank you."

"You'll be better for lunch; so will I. Please come. I want somebody to talk to. My name is Norcross—Nell Norcross."

She was still gripping Mary's arm, with an insistence that surprised the tearful one, for Miss Norcross did not appear like a resolute and robust person, but rather one who was somewhat frail and worried, despite all her jaunty assurance of manner.

"I'm Mary Wayne—but—oh, what's the use? Thank you, just the same."

"Come along," said Miss Norcross. "I know a dandy little place. It's cheap, too. You see, I'm not very strong financially, even if I am getting a job."

She walked Mary to the elevator and down to the street level they went. Mary felt very weak of will, yet somehow comforted, as she suffered herself to be marched for several blocks to an obscure little restaurant in a basement. The strange young woman chattered all the way, but Mary had no very clear notion of what she talked about. It was not until they were seated on opposite sides 

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