"I have some in view. An acquaintance of mine, Mrs. Tilton, of West Forty-second street, is in want of a music-teacher for her two girls. I will send you there, with a note, to-morrow. But first I must give you a hint. How much were you intending to charge for a lesson?"
"I had not thought," said Rose, hesitating. "How would fifty cents do?"
"Fifty cents!" repeated Miss Wilmot, with a rising inflection. "If you undervalue yourself to that extent, no one will think you know how to teach. You must charge two dollars per lesson."
"But will anybody pay me so much?" asked Rose, amazed. "To one who has only been earning thirty-five cents a day at vest-making, fifty cents an hour seems very large pay."
"My dear child, be guided by me. I know the world, and the world will set very much the same value upon you that you set on yourself. Ask Mrs. Tilton two dollars an hour."
"But if she objects to pay it?"
"Say that you are sorry that you cannot make any arrangements."
"I am afraid I can't keep a straight face when I ask such a price, Miss Wilmot."
"Oh, yes, you will! Don't feel nervous. If you lose the pupils, I will see that you don't suffer by it. By the way, put on your best dress, for it is desirable that you make a favorable first impression."
"I will follow your advice, Miss Wilmot," said Rose.