CHAPTER II.
THE GOOD SAMARITAN Penelope tapped sharply at Nan's bedroom door.
"Nan, are you ready?
Your taxi's waiting outside." "Ticking tuppences away like the very dickens, too!" returned Nan, emerging from her room dressed for a journey.
It was a week or two later and in response to a wire--and as the result of a good deal of persuasion on the part of Penelope--Nan had accepted an engagement to play at a big charity concert in Exeter.

Lady Chatterton, the organiser of the concert, had offered to put her up for the couple of nights involved, and Nan was now hurrying to catch the Paddington West-country train.
"I've induced the taxi-driver to come up and carry down your baggage," pursued Penelope.

"You'll have to look fairly sharp if you're to catch the one-fifty." "I _must_ catch it," declared Nan.

"Why, the Chattertons are fourteen miles from Abbencombe Station and it would be simply ghastly if they sent all that way to meet me--and there _was_ no me! Besides, there's a rehearsal fixed for ten o'clock to-morrow morning." While she spoke, the two girls were making their way down the circular flight of stone steps--since the lift was temporarily out of order--preceded by the driver grumblingly carrying Nan's suit-case and hat-box.

A minute or two later the taxi emitted a grunt from somewhere within the depths of its being and Nan was off, with Penelope's cheery "Good luck!" ringing in her ears.
She sat back against the cushions and gasped a sigh of relief.