"I'm not going to wait for it. I'm not like Mr. Micawber. I'm going out and turn up something for myself. There's one thing I can do, and that's manicure. I could get a place at that, maybe," and Alice looked at her pretty and well-kept nails, while Ruth glanced at her own hands.
"Yes, dear, you do that nicely. But isn't it—er—rather common?"
"All work is 'common,' I suppose. It's also common to starve—but I'm not going to do it if I can help it. Good-night!" and she flounced into her own room.
"Oh, dear!" sighed Ruth. "I wish Alice were not so—so lively" and she cried softly before she fell asleep.
Mr. DeVere was up early the next morning. He seemed more cheerful, though his voice, if anything, was hoarser and more husky than ever.
"Here's where I start out to seek my fortune!" he said raspingly, though cheerfully, after a rather scanty breakfast. "I'll come back with good news—never fear!"
He kissed the girls good-bye, and went off with a gay wave of his hand.
"Brave daddy!" murmured Ruth.
"Yes, he is brave," said Alice "and we've got to be brave, too."
"Where are you going?" asked Ruth, as she saw her sister dressing for the street.