There remains, I confess," her ladyship went on in the same free spirit, "the great wonder--" "Of how I first placed my poor little self?
Yes," Mamie bravely conceded, "when _I_ began there was no agency.

I just worked my passage.
I didn't even come to YOU, did I?
You never noticed me till, as Mrs.
Short Stokes says, 'I was 'way, 'way up!' Mrs.Medwin," she threw in, "can't get over it." Then, as her friend looked vague: "Over my social situation." "Well, it's no great flattery to you to say," Lady Wantridge good-humouredly returned, "that she certainly can't hope for one resembling it." Yet it really seemed to spread there before them.

"You simply MADE Mrs.Short Stokes." "In spite of her name!" Mamie smiled.
"Oh your 'names'-- ! In spite of everything." "Ah I'm something of an artist." With which, and a relapse marked by her wistful eyes into the gravity of the matter, she supremely fixed her friend.

She felt how little she minded betraying at last the extremity of her need, and it was out of this extremity that her appeal proceeded.
"Have I really had your last word?
It means so much to me." Lady Wantridge came straight to the point.

"You mean you depend on it ?" "Awfully!" "Is it all you have ?" "All.