"I hope you never will become like Gwen," Dick said almost fiercely, "or like my sister Phyllis, either. They're not _our kind_, though I'm sorry to say it." Then noting a far-away, thoughtful expression which had crept into the girl's eyes, the lad inquired: "Say, Bobs, have you any idea _how_ Gwyn _can_ earn a living? You're the sort who can hold your own anywhere. You'd be willing to work, but Gwyn--well, I can't picture her as a daily-bread earner."