Last Monday, just before 10 a.m., President Clinton gathered with his senior staff in the Oval Office. Everyone there had just weathered one of the longest weekends of their political lives, and the week ahead appeared just as difficult.

Some of the staff had spent the previous day, Super Bowl Sunday, attempting to disprove a damaging report that independent counsel Kenneth W. Starr was seeking to question a witness who had seen the president and former White House intern Monica S. Lewinsky in a compromising position.

Other officials had spent Sunday on television talk shows in the first concerted public defense of the president since the allegations that he had had a sexual affair with Lewinsky and later urged her to lie about it had exploded in the press on Jan. 21. The defenders, however, had played to mixed reviews. While they had assailed Starr as a biased prosecutor, they had pleaded ignorance whenever they were asked about the relationship between Clinton and Lewinsky -- or about any facts of the matter.

No one thought things were going well. For all the confidence Clinton's defenders had attempted to display in public, there was a palpable sense of a beleaguered White House. Asked to assess the president's situation late Sunday night, one administration official said ominously, "As bad as it gets."

None of the staff in the room that Monday morning knew the whole story. Nobody knew what Lewinsky was prepared to tell Starr. Nobody knew what, if anything, Starr and his investigators had uncovered to corroborate what was believed to be on tape recordings of conversations between Lewinsky and Linda R. Tripp, the Pentagon employee whose call to Starr on Jan. 12 had triggered the investigation. Finally, nobody in the White House could talk to Clinton about the case except first lady Hillary Rodham Clinton and a few lawyers, and they were not sharing what secrets they knew with the staff.

Clinton's State of the Union address was fast approaching. Everyone agreed the president should say nothing about the scandal in the speech, but that decision created its own problem. Clinton had been out of public view since Thursday. His only comments on the scandal, made in a series of interviews the day the story broke, had appeared evasive and lawyerly. His performance, in the estimation of one old friend, was "a disaster" that had left the public confused, the media dissatisfied and the staff demoralized.

On Sunday afternoon, half a dozen of the president's most senior advisers concluded that Clinton could not hide out until after his State of the Union address. "It was a pressure cooker," one official said. "We had to let off steam." Led by Chief of Staff Erskine B. Bowles, a small delegation proposed to Clinton that he make another statement about the scandal before the Tuesday speech. Clinton agreed, as did his lawyers. But the legal team objected to any setting that would expose him to questions. Finally, they decided to add Clinton to a previously scheduled event on child care Monday morning at the White House.

Now it was a few minutes before the event, and the president and his advisers were going over a few last details in the Oval Office. Hillary Clinton was there too. She had spent the weekend rallying old friends behind the president, and her efforts not only had helped to boost spirits among the staff but also appeared to have stiffened the resolve of the president. "I feel we've been in a daze the last couple of days," the president said. "It's good to be back on our feet."

Clinton walked the five short steps from his office to the Roosevelt Room and took his place with the others for the child care and education announcements. When it was his turn, he talked for a few minutes about the new proposals and then shifted subjects.

"Now I have to go back to work on my State of the Union speech," he said. "And I worked on it until pretty late last night." He seemed to chuckle at that. "But I want to say one thing to the American people." His face suddenly hardened and he glared past the audience toward the cameras: "I want you to listen to me," he began, wagging his finger for emphasis. "I'm going to say this again. I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Miss Lewinsky. I never told anybody to lie, not a single time. Never. These allegations are false. And I need to go back to work for the American people."

The president turned from the lectern and left the room. Unpredictable Happenings

Clinton's denial on Monday morning opened another remarkable week in the life of a scandal that defies definition. The week before, the crisis was memorable for shocking and salacious allegations, the perilous state of Clinton's presidency and the intensity of the media's pursuit of the story. Last week, it was memorable because what happened was equally unpredictable and unexpected.

There was nothing linear about the way things were playing out. The crisis shifted from warp speed almost to slow motion. A scandal that had appeared destined for quick and clean resolution -- one that had seemed to demand full and immediate answers for the good of the country -- suddenly looked more complicated. Negotiations between Starr's office and Lewinsky's lawyers dragged on inconclusively and, as the legal gears ground more slowly, the White House, schooled on scandal and permeated with keen instincts for survival, began to devise the outlines of a strategy to fight back.

From one of the worst weeks of his presidency, Clinton emerged to enjoy, at least by some measures, one of his best. He delivered his State of the Union speech to strong reviews. He drew enthusiastic crowds in Illinois and Wisconsin. Defying political gravity, his approval ratings soared to their highest levels ever. With the help of a staunch defense and some partisan offense from Hillary Clinton, he clamped a lid on information coming from the White House about the scandal and dug in. Though far from safely through the crisis, Clinton found himself with some room to breathe. He was again, if only for a few days, the Comeback Kid.

But at the end of the week, there were still more questions than answers about where the crisis was heading. Some were aimed squarely at the president.

* How did the White House explain evidence of a late December meeting between Clinton and Lewinsky after she had been subpoenaed to testify in the Jones case and intensive efforts by Vernon E. Jordan Jr. to help find her a job at the time she prepared her affidavit, and how did those events add to knowledge about the president's relationship with Lewinsky?

* Why had the president decided not to answer questions after promising an explanation as soon as possible?

* What was the state of play between Lewinsky's attorneys and the independent counsel's office, and could Starr successfully implicate Clinton without Lewinsky's full cooperation as a witness against the president?

* Had the Starr investigation produced any solid evidence to corroborate the most damaging allegations in the case, or were his investigators chasing something illusory?

* Had the American people decided they just didn't care about Clinton's private behavior, or were they merely withholding judgment in the Lewinsky matter until the facts became clear?

* Will there ever be clear answers in what may shape up as a classic case of "he said, she said"? If there aren't, will Clinton continue to enjoy the confidence of the American people and the support of Democrats in Congress? The State of the Union

Tuesday proved decisive in reshaping the crisis that threatened Clinton's presidency.

It was the day for Clinton's State of the Union address, an event the president and his staff had been working toward for months. Already he had unveiled proposals on Medicare and child care, and he planned to make Social Security reform the centerpiece of the speech. But with the scandal enveloping his presidency, Clinton faced a surreal evening at the Capitol, and his allies feared members of his own party would give him, at best, a lukewarm reception. Would the evening be the first indication that the country was dealing with a crippled presidency?

Nervous Democrats were looking for additional reassurances from the White House that the allegations were false. Clinton's denial on Monday had helped, but more was needed. On Tuesday, Hillary Clinton provided it. That morning she appeared on NBC's "Today" for a long-scheduled interview. Although she had been silent publicly about the allegations, anyone who had talked to her over the weekend knew she was about to reemerge as her husband's most tenacious defender.

This was a role with which she was familiar. Six years earlier, in January 1992, she had stood up for her husband in the face of allegations of an affair with Gennifer Flowers -- allegations that then threatened his presidential candidacy. In a memorable performance on CBS's "60 Minutes," she had declared that she was not "sitting here some little woman standing by my man like Tammy Wynette."

On "Today," she was even more aggressive in her defense. She dismissed the allegations about the Lewinsky affair and, while acknowledging that the charges were serious if true, assured the audience in what may have been carefully chosen words that they would not be "proven true." She denounced Starr as "politically motivated" and, in language that made even some of the president's allies wince, said the allegations were the product of a "vast, right-wing conspiracy that has been conspiring against my husband since the day he announced for president."

Coupled with the president's denial, the first lady's vigorous performance boosted morale inside the White House and among Democrats around the country. "There's a lifting of the gloom," one friend of the first lady said. "There's a long way to go on this. He {Clinton} may or may not survive. But the fact is that spirits have been raised."

Still there was an air of unreality as the speech approached. Clinton continued his rehearsals at a White House where many on the staff were using State of the Union preparations to keep their minds off the scandal. The final text of the speech was delivered to reporters about 5:30 p.m., a record for earliness among Clinton's addresses before Congress.

On Capitol Hill, Democrats caucused in the late afternoon. When they emerged, House Minority Leader Richard A. Gephardt (D-Mo.) said, "The president explicitly denied these allegations. He deserves the benefit of the doubt." Gephardt criticized the media for operating on "rumors and half-truths and fourth truths" and then said, "Democracy can't run on rumor mills. I think we all need to take a deep breath and back up." Other Democrats offered defenses of Clinton that ranged from solid to tentative. Rep. Henry A. Waxman (D-Calif.) said, "I reserve judgment."

Clinton arrived at the Capitol a few minutes before the 9 p.m. speech was to begin and was greeted by congressional leaders. One of those there thought the president looked "very tired and down."

The president entered the House chamber about 9:10 p.m. One Democrat who was on the floor at the time said the mood seemed little different from that on other such occasions. "The members had had all day to process where we were and to figure out what we were going to do," he said. Another person witnessing the event had a different view. It was, he said, as if the entire government -- Republicans, Democrats, the Cabinet, the Supreme Court -- was determined to protect the institution of the presidency, if not Clinton himself, by making sure this event proceeded as normally as possible.

Still another person who had been on the floor for previous Clinton State of the Union speeches said the mood, at least initially, was unlike that for any of the others. "There was an unease," this Democrat said. "People just didn't know what to expect. There was a crackling tension in the air at the beginning. People knew they were in uncharted territory."

Clinton spoke for 72 minutes and was interrupted about 100 times with applause, mostly led by members of his own party. He never mentioned the scandal and acted as if it had never happened. Everyone's effort to project a sense of normalcy had, perhaps without intention, worked to his political advantage. Clinton had turned what might have been an embarrassing moment into a tool to stabilize his presidency. As he prepared to get into his limousine for the ride back down Pennsylvania Avenue to the White House, he flashed a grin and a thumbs-up to one of his aides.

"I think it was a turning point," an administration official said. "Not from a political or process standpoint. It wasn't a turning point in how the media covers this. But it was a turning point emotionally. Where the average member might have tried to avoid questions about scandal, after Tuesday night they were willing to get up and say we support the president and his agenda and we're going to fight to get it implemented this year." Back on the Campaign Trail?

As the president prepared to leave Washington for campaign-style appearances in Illinois and Wisconsin, Hillary Clinton appeared on ABC's "Good Morning, America." She restated her belief that the allegations against her husband "are false" and then bluntly told the American people not to expect the president to tell his side of the story in the near future.

"You won't hear any more from Vernon Jordan, you won't hear any more from my husband, because they have to abide by the rules that they operate under when they have these investigations," she said.

Six days earlier, the president had pledged "more rather than less, sooner rather than later" as he dodged reporters' questions during an Oval Office photo opportunity.

With Hillary Clinton's statement, the president's strategy was now in place: deny the broad charges and stay mum on the details, attack the independent counsel for partisan motivations, and focus on the business of the country.

Clinton and his allies had another reason not to answer questions: They were waiting to hear whether Lewinsky had agreed to offer testimony against the president in exchange for protection from prosecution by the independent counsel. "There are only two actors in this play: the president and Monica," one person helping to plot Clinton's strategy had said on Monday. "Both of them have issued very strong and vigorous denials. It seems to me now that the next act in this play is, is she going to recant or is she not going to recant?"

On that front, things lurched along inconclusively throughout the week. On Monday night, Lewinsky's lawyer, William H. Ginsburg, had emerged to face a media scrum and say his client had given Starr's office a "complete proffer" of her testimony, a catalogue of charges she would make under oath in return for an agreement not to be prosecuted. "We are waiting for Judge Starr to decide what to do," Ginsburg said.

Tuesday brought no further developments, nor did Wednesday. On Thursday, Ginsburg and Starr met face to face for the first time in a week. Ginsburg emerged amid speculation the talks had broken down. "With regard to our meeting this morning, we have no comment," Ginsburg told reporters. "We are preparing our defense."

For more than a week, Ginsburg had been a whirling dervish of television appearances. The average American, zapping from one channel to the next, might have thought his remote was broken or every station was airing the same program: the Ginsburg Hour. The California malpractice attorney was stretching his 15 minutes of fame beyond the normal commercial break, but his negotiating strategy baffled lawyers familiar with the pas de deux of scandal negotiations.

There were reports that Lewinsky's verbal proffer paralleled the information on the tapes Linda Tripp had turned over to prosecutors the week before. But the more Ginsburg talked publicly, the more he seemed to dispute what had been reported about the tapes. There was, he said, no dress containing evidence against the president. Whatever gifts Lewinsky had received were trivial, stuff one could find at the "White House souvenir shop." If she and the president had talked on the phone, it was harmless, not freighted with "sexual innuendo" or worse. In an interview on ABC's "20/20" aired Friday night, he disputed a new allegation from Linda Tripp that Clinton had called Lewinsky in the middle of the night at her Watergate apartment while Tripp was there.

No wonder Starr's team had doubts and questions about details of Lewinsky's proffer and wanted a better sense of what kind of witness she would be. The standoff continued through the week, and yesterday Ginsburg announced that he and Lewinsky were returning to California, but not before another round of appearances on Sunday's talk shows.

As those negotiations stalled, a fuller portrait of Monica Lewinsky emerged -- just as the president's defenders had hoped and predicted. Early in the week, there were hints from those close to Clinton that Americans knew little about the former intern, other than that she was young and inexperienced when she came to Washington, and that a different portrait could cast his relationship with her in a different light.

Fifteen minutes before Clinton's State of the Union address was to begin, new information emerged at a news conference in Portland, Ore. Andy J. Bleiler, a 32-year-old former drama teacher at Lewinsky's high school, acknowledged through his attorney that he and Lewinsky had carried on a five-year affair.

Bleiler's lawyer, Terry Giles, said Lewinsky was "obsessed with sex" and had a tendency to exaggerate. He said she had bragged of a relationship with a high White House official whom she sometimes referred to as "the creep." Lewinsky, on the Tripp tapes, also makes a reference to "the creep," in what has been widely interpreted to mean the president.

The Bleiler-Lewinsky relationship added to the mosaic of information about the young intern that was emerging from interviews with others who know her: that she would spend hundreds of dollars to buy a ticket to a presidential fund-raiser in order to station herself along the rope line for a chance to see, and be seen or hugged by, the president; that her dream job, as she once told a friend, was to choose the president's daily wardrobe.

Ginsburg denounced what appeared to be a growing effort to sully his client's reputation. He cautioned everyone to remember that it is not uncommon for young men and women Lewinsky's age to be sexually active. And he ridiculed Bleiler for invoking "the Joey Buttafuoco defense," a reference to the Long Island, N.Y., case a few years back in which Buttafuoco's teenage lover, Amy Fisher, tried to kill his wife and Buttafuoco claimed he too was Fisher's victim.

"He's saying she was the vixen who could not be resisted, the sirens on the rocks," Ginsburg scoffed at Bleiler. "That's unbelievable." Legal Entanglements

The scandal moved on parallel tracks of presidential public relations, behind-the-scenes legal maneuvering, grand jury testimony and a flurry of legal motions. Everything added up to delay, and the resulting confusion gave the president's allies fresh hope that he now might survive.

Starr's investigators began to take testimony before a grand jury in downtown Washington. The first prominent witness to appear was Betty Currie, Clinton's personal secretary whose desk is at the door to the Oval Office. It was Currie who reportedly signed Lewinsky into the White House for visits after she had departed for the Pentagon in April 1996, and it was Currie to whom a number of messages and packages from Lewinsky's Pentagon office -- reportedly destined for the president -- were addressed.

Currie appeared Tuesday afternoon as the president was rehearsing for his State of the Union address. She was questioned for several hours and left without speaking to reporters. The only other named witness that day was John Whitehead of the Rutherford Institute, the conservative think tank helping to underwrite Paula Jones's legal bills.

On Wednesday, former White House chief of staff Leon E. Panetta arrived at the courthouse without a lawyer. Eight hours later he emerged. In a brief statement to the media throng that had waited in the cold rain that day, Panetta said he was "personally unaware of any improper relationship, sexual or otherwise, between this president and any of the White House interns -- or anyone else for that matter." He called the crisis "a difficult moment for the nation" and said it was his "fervent prayer" that "this situation is resolved soon."

By then almost no one believed that would happen. The Lewinsky matter had quickly become intertwined with the Jones case, a legal entanglement that was inevitable but that complicated Starr's efforts for quick resolution.

On Monday, Clinton's attorney in the Jones case, Robert S. Bennett, had filed a motion in Little Rock asking Judge Susan Webber Wright, who is presiding over the case, to move up the scheduled trial date of May 27. Bennett argued that the case was being used "to destroy the president" and had become a major distraction to Clinton. "We ask for this relief because it is important not only to the president, but to the institution of the presidency," Bennett wrote.

On Tuesday, Bennett agreed during a conference call with Judge Wright and others to turn over the president's deposition in the Jones case to the independent counsel. Although he volunteered the deposition, in reality he had minimal legal grounds to resist a request from the independent counsel. In the deposition, Clinton reportedly denied having a sexual relationship with Lewinsky.

On Thursday, Starr filed his own motion in Little Rock. Worried about the impact of the Jones case on his own investigation, he asked Wright to halt all pretrial evidence gathering in the Jones case. He accused lawyers for both the president and Jones of "attempting to take strategic advantage of the ongoing criminal investigation to their own benefit -- with the inevitable effect of disrupting that investigation."

Starr further accused Jones's lawyers of "shadowing" his investigation. The sealed motion complained that Jones's attorneys had attempted to subpoena "all documents" the White House had given the independent counsel's office pertaining to Lewinsky and had issued subpoenas to the Pentagon, the White House and United Nations Ambassador Bill Richardson, who had offered Lewinsky a job in October. Jones's lawyers had even served Panetta with a subpoena while he was appearing before the grand jury in Washington on Wednesday.

Wright rejected Starr's broad request, but in a ruling late Thursday afternoon declared that evidence concerning Monica Lewinsky "is not essential to the core issues" in the Jones case and that admitting any evidence about her "would frustrate the timely resolution of this case." Legal experts debated whether the rulings helped, or hurt, Starr's investigation. Unanswered Questions

Week one of the scandal was notable for the velocity and sensationalism of the allegations that tumbled forth. In week two, new information surfaced more slowly. But what emerged raised additional questions about Clinton's contacts with the former intern.

The intensity of the media's coverage of the scandal eclipsed the blanket reporting of the death of the Princess of Wales last year. Over the first eight days, the networks devoted 60 percent of their coverage to the Lewinsky story, according to the Center for Media and Public Affairs.

After pursuing the story with few restraints and often lowered standards of sourcing, the media began to pause and question itself. The national conversation about sex brought a backlash from the public. Pollsters reported that people were sick of the story and turned off by the tastelessness of some of the coverage.

Although there were few obvious outright mistakes, the Dallas Morning News reported Monday night that investigators had spoken to a Secret Service agent who had seen Clinton and Lewinsky in a compromising position. The story appeared on the paper's Internet site and flashed on television screens across the country.

Hours later, the newspaper retracted the story, saying its source had provided inaccurate information. The next day, it produced another story: Starr's team had talked to an intermediary for a witness, or witnesses, who claimed they had seen something "ambiguous" involving Clinton and Lewinsky, it said.

The newspaper's embarrassment gave White House officials new hope that the relentless pursuit of the allegations would begin to recede. But day by day, a potentially damaging sequence of events beginning in early December of last year emerged from a series of newspaper accounts, based on unnamed sources. Together the events raised questions about whether the president or Vernon Jordan had attempted to find a job for Lewinsky in return for her denial that she and Clinton had had an affair.

The sequence begins on Dec. 5, when Clinton's lawyers apparently learned that Lewinsky was named as a witness in the Jones case. A few days later, Jordan called American Express, on whose board he sits, on Lewinsky's behalf. On Dec. 17, Lewinsky received a subpoena to testify. On Dec. 23, she interviewed with American Express and was told she would not be hired. On Dec. 28, Lewinsky met with Clinton at the White House, cleared by Betty Currie. Two days later, she interviewed with Revlon and Burson-Marsteller. Both job interviews were arranged with Jordan's help.

On Jan. 7, Lewinsky signed an affidavit denying any sexual relationship with the president, but did not submit the document. Over the next few days, she learned that Revlon planned to offer her a job, but the offer was not made formally until Jan. 13, the day Linda Tripp, wearing an FBI "wire," recorded a conversation with Lewinsky at a Pentagon City hotel in Virginia. Three days later, Lewinsky's lawyer at the time, Francis D. Carter (whose service was arranged by Jordan), filed her affidavit and a motion to quash the Jones subpoena.

The sequence raises a fundamental question: Was Lewinsky holding back her affidavit until she was certain she had a job, and were Jordan and the president trying to buy her silence? Or was Jordan, who has denied any wrongdoing, simply trying to help a young woman, referred to him by the White House, find employment? Or was it all just a coincidence? A Good' Week

On Wednesday, Air Force One rolled off the runway at the University of Illinois airport and got stuck in the mud. The president mugged for photographers as he waited for a backup plane to take him to his next event in Wisconsin, then relaxed over a game of cards with his aides. Nothing, it seemed, could upset him.

No wonder. Against almost all logic, the president's poll numbers continued to climb through the week. In the face of some of the nastiest allegations of his political career, Clinton's approval rating rose to the highest level of his presidency. Hillary Clinton's favorability ratings similarly reached their peak. The mood of the country, buoyant as the crisis was breaking, grew even brighter. A Washington Post-ABC News poll found Americans more optimistic about the direction of the country than at any time since the question was first asked in 1973.

The combination of events left the president's allies relieved to euphoric. "They have the exhilaration this week that comes from getting shot at and missed," said one Democrat with close ties to the White House. "They've got a message. There's an offense and a defense." Then he added, "They still don't know anything" about what happened between Clinton and Lewinsky.

It was, in other words, a good week and nothing more. The president's supporters knew the poll numbers could turn against him in the face of damaging new information, and his silence about the facts continued to raise suspicions. White House officials faced their own ethical dilemmas as they attempted to defend the president in the absence of knowing the truth. Together the Clintons had reframed the battle and survived to keep fighting. But as one friend said late in the week, "This is going to be a messy and long, drawn-out thing. . . . There will be some tough days ahead."

Clinton's advisers have gone out of their way to portray him as uniformly upbeat and focused throughout the crisis. Perhaps that is so. But late in the week, the president talked to several people and in the conversations made oblique references to the unfolding story. He was, they said, more hopeful than convinced that he had weathered the crisis. He mused at one point that he was going to get out of the woods, didn't they think? Two people with whom he talked sense that he was not stating a fact. He was looking for reassurance. Staff researcher Ben White contributed to this report. CAPTION: FROM WHITE HOUSE INTERN TO VORTEX OF CONTRAVERSY: Monica Lewinsky arrived in Washington 2 1/2 years ago as one among hundreds of interns who work at the White House. Her tenure at the executive mansion was brief but, according to accounts she has reportedly given a close friend, eventful enough to trigger the current crisis in the Clinton presidency. ACTIONS OF OTHERS 1997: JULY July 4: The Drudge Report, an Internet gossip column, leaks word that Newsweek's Michael Isikoff is pursuing story about whether President Clinton made a pass at staffer Kathleen Willey. AUGUST Aug. 11: Newsweek story is published in which Linda Tripp says Willey told her Clinton made a pass at her. Aug. 17: The Clintons begin a 20-day vacation on Martha's Vineyard. OCTOBER Oct. 1: Paula Jones, whose sexual harassment suit against Clinton is scheduled to be heard in May, announces she has switched lawyers and accepted financial support from the Rutherford Institute, a conservative legal organization. Also in October: The Rutherford Institute receives three anonymous phone calls in a female voice that Lewinsky may have had sex with Clinton, according to sources. Tripp subpoenaed in Jones case. Book agent Lucianne Goldberg, son Jonah, Isikoff and Tripp meet to discuss tapes on which Lewinsky alleges to Tripp that she had a sexual relationship with Clinton and that he and Jordan advised her to deny it. DECEMBER Dec. 5: Jones's attorneys send Clinton's attorney, Robert S. Bennett, a witness list with Lewinsky's name on it. Dec. 10 or 11: Jordan calls American Express on behalf of Lewinsky. 1998: JANUARY Jan. 12: Tripp brings Kenneth Starr the tapes of her conversations with Lewinsky. Jan. 13: FBI agents equip Tripp with a hidden microphone and record her conversation with Lewinsky at the Pentagon City Ritz-Carlton Hotel. Jan. 15: Starr requests permission from the Justice Department to expand his authority so he can investigate allegations Lewinsky was involved in a sexual relationship with Clinton and the possibility that Clinton and Jordan suborned perjury and obstructed justice in the Jones case. Jan. 16: A three-judge panel that oversees independent counsels approves Attorney General Janet Reno's request to expand Starr's mandate Jan. 17: Clinton is deposed in Jones case. Attorneys question him on possible sexual relationships with a number of women, including Lewinsky. Jan. 21: The Washington Post, the Los Angeles Times and ABC News report on Clinton's alleged relationship with Lewinsky and on Starr's probe of allegations that Clinton and Jordan encouraged her to lie. In media interviews, Clinton denies a "sexual relationship" with Lewinsky and says he did not urge her to lie. Jan. 22: Jordan says Lewinsky told him "she didn't have a sexual relationship with the president." He adds, "At no time, did I ever say . . . that she should lie." Susan Webber Wright rules that Lewinsky's deposition in the Jones trial, scheduled for the next day, will be delayed. ACTIONS INVOLVING LEWINSKY 1995 June: Monica Lewinsky, 21, begins internship at White House. December: Lewinsky moves into a paid position in the White House Office of Legislative Affairs. 1996 April 17: After leaving her Legislative Affairs job, Lewinsky is hired in the public affairs section of the Pentagon after being recommended by the White House. 1997: AUGUST Lewinsky later claims Clinton gave her trinkets bought on his Martha's Vineyard trip. OCTOBER Oct. 7: Lewinsky sends the first of nine packages from the Pentagon to the White House and Vernon Jordan's office. The packages are said to contain letters and, Lewinsky reportedly told Tripp, one sexually provocative audiotape for Clinton. Late October: Lewinsky interviews with U.N. Ambassador Bill Richardson at the Watergate after a referral from deputy White House chief of staff John Podesta and Clinton's secretary, Betty Currie. He offers her a job but she declines. NOVEMBER Nov. 4: Lewinsky tells her Pentagon bosses she plans to resign. Also in November: Vernon Jordan, a close Clinton friend, first talks to Lewinsky about helping her find a job, according to Newsweek. DECEMBER Dec. 11: American Express receives Lewinsky's resume. Dec. 17: Lewinsky is subpoenaed by Jones's lawyers. The same day, she receives a call from Thomas Schick, American Express's vice president of corporate affairs and communications, to set up a job interview. Dec. 23: Schick interviews Lewinsky in Washington; he tells her there is no job for her. Dec. 26: Lewinsky leaves Pentagon job. Dec. 28: Lewinsky, cleared by Currie, visits the president at the White House. Dec. 30: Lewinsky has interviews in New York, arranged by Jordan, with Revlon and Burson-Marsteller. 1998: JANUARY Jan. 7: Lewinsky signs an affidavit in the Jones case declaring she "never had a sexual relationship with the president." Her lawyer does not, however, submit the affidavit yet. Jan. 8 or 9: Lewinsky has another interview with Revlon, and within a day or two they tell her they'd be interested in hiring her. Jan. 12: Lewinsky's lawyer, Francis Carter, informs Jones team of the contents of her affidavit denying sex with Clinton. Jan. 13: Revlon sends Lewinsky a formal job offer. Jan. 14: Lewinsky allegedly gives Tripp a document to coach her on what to tell Jones's lawyers about the Willey incident. Jan. 16: Starr's deputies have Tripp meet Lewinsky again at the Ritz-Carlton. They intercept Lewinsky, and FBI agents and U.S. attorneys question her for several hours. She is offered an immunity deal but it runs out at midnight. Carter files Lewinsky's affidavit with a motion to quash the Jones subpoena. Jan. 17: William H. Ginsburg takes over from Carter as Lewinsky's attorney. Jan. 19: Ginsburg seeks immunity for Lewinsky, but Starr's office demands to know the content of her testimony before discussing any deal. Jan. 21: Revlon withdraws its job offer. CAPTION: Bill Clinton CAPTION: Lucianne Goldberg CAPTION: Robert S. Bennett CAPTION: Kenneth W. Starr CAPTION: Monica Lewinsky CAPTION: Bill Richardson CAPTION: Vernon E. Jordan Jr. CAPTION: Betty Currie CAPTION: Linda R. Tripp CAPTION: William H. Ginsburg CAPTION: Media: Listening to daily White House briefing are, from left: ABC's Sam Donaldson, with pen; Helen Thomas, United Press International; and Bill Plante of CBS. CAPTION: Conspiracy': Hillary Clinton and host Matt Lauer on the set of the "Today" show, where she spoke of a "right-wing conspiracy" against her husband. CAPTION: Denial: President Clinton, on PBS's "NewsHour" Jan. 21, denies any "improper relationship" with Monica Lewinsky. CAPTION: Ex-Teacher: In Portland, Ore., Andy J. Bleiler holds hands with wife Kathy. He acknowledged having a five-year sexual relationship with Monica Lewinsky. CAPTION: In Public: Clinton works crowd Wednesday at the University of Illinois in Champaign. CAPTION: Going Out: Monica Lewinsky, at left, leaves the Cosmos Club in Washington with her lawyer on Thursday. Above, President Clinton is at work on his State of the Union speech, which he delivered Tuesday night.