Part 30 (1/2)

”No, Belle,” said Mildred, laughing; ”I haven't your force and brilliancy, and have made but a humdrum beginning. I was so stupid at one counter that they transferred me to another, and I'm glad of it, for laces are pretty, and taking care of them wouldn't seem like drudgery at all. Best of all, it's near the door, and every customer will give me a sustaining breath.”

”Millie is standing it capitally for a beginner,” Belle remarked, with the air of a veteran, as Mildred eagerly drank her cup of tea and asked for more. ”I was so tired the first night that it seemed as if I could scarcely swallow a mouthful.”

Thus they carried out the little ruse, careful not to exaggerate, for Mrs. Jocelyn's intuitions were quick.

As it was she looked at her child with many misgivings, but she tried for their sakes to be cheerful, and praised the courage and spirit of both the girls, a.s.suring them that they showed their true Southern blood, and that they reminded her of their father when, during his brief visits, he talked over the long, hard campaigns.

At last they were in the privacy of their own room, and Mildred, as if she were the weaker and younger, buried her face on her sister's shoulder and sobbed despairingly, ”Oh, Belle, you are the stronger.

I fear I can't stand it at all. I've suffered more to-day than in all my life, and my feet and back still ache--oh, I can't tell you.”

The child soothed and comforted her, and said she had suffered just the same at first, and often still she felt that if she could not sit down for a few moments she would drop down; ”but there, Millie,”

she concluded, with the best philosophy the case admitted of, ”you get used to it gradually--you can get used to anything.”

”I don't believe I can,” was the dejected reply, ”and yet I must, if we would have shelter and bread. Oh that we might hear some good news from papa! Why don't he write oftener? I fear it is because he has nothing cheering to tell us.”

The next morning, in spite of all effort, Mildred was too ill and lame to rise, but she instructed Belie to a.s.sure her employer that she would come the following day.

Mrs. Jocelyn tried hard to persuade her not to go back at all, and at last Mildred grew a little stern and said emphatically, ”Please say no more, mamma. We can afford none of this weak nonsense. I must earn my bread, as do other girls, and have no time to lose.”

The following day, fortunately, was so stormy that customers were scattering, and Mildred had a chance to gain an idea of her duties and to rest a little from time to time, for out of consideration of the facts that she had been ill and was a beginner, she was permitted to sit down occasionally. She was so attractive in appearance, and had brought such an excellent certificate of character, that the proprietors were inclined to be lenient, and smooth a little the harsh and th.o.r.n.y path of a beginner.

And so the weary days dragged on, and she slowly acquired the power to stand as did the others. They were days, however, which ended in a close approach to agony, from which the nights brought but slight and temporary relief, for so great was the pain in her feet and back that she would moan even in her sleep. Her sufferings were scarcely less than at first, but, as Belle said, she was ”getting used” to them.

It is a well-known fact that many would persist in living in spite of all the tortures of the Inquisition. I wonder if the old-time inquisitors and their ”familiars” were ingenious enough to compel delicate women to stand and talk all day, and sometimes part of the night?

In very truth, the poor girl was earning her bread by torture, and she soon found that she had many companions in suffering who, with woman's capacity for the patient endurance of pain, made the best of their lot, often trying to forget themselves in jests, laughter, and gossip, planning, meanwhile, in odd moments, for some s.n.a.t.c.h at the few pleasures that their brief evenings permitted--pleasures, too often, in which Mildred could or would take no part. While her gentleness and courtesy to all gave no cause for hostility, her air of quiet aloofness and her recognized superiority prevented her from becoming a favorite, nor did the many admiring looks and even open advances that she received from the young men in the store, and occasionally from customers, add to her popularity. The male clerks soon found, however, that beyond the line warranted by their mutual duties she was utterly unapproachable, and not a few of them united in the view held by the girls, that she was ”stuck up”; but since she was not in the least above her business, no one could complain openly.

As one long, exceedingly busy and weary day was drawing to a close, however, she received a sharp reprimand. A gentleman had agreed to meet his wife at the shop as he came up town, in order that they might together make provision for Christmas. The lady having nearly accomplished her round, and having proved herself a liberal purchaser, she was naturally accompanied toward the door by a very amiable foreman, who was profuse in his thanks. Suddenly it occurred to her that she would look at the laces, and she approached Mildred, who, in a momentary respite, was leaning back against the shelves with closed eyes, weary beyond all words of description.

”Will you please wake that young woman up,” the lady remarked, a little sharply.

This the foreman did, in a way that brought what little blood the poor girl had left into her face. The shopper sat down on the plush seat before the counter, and was soon absorbed in the enticing wares, while her husband stood beside her and stole sidelong glances at the weary but beautiful face of the saleswoman.

”Jupiter Ammon,” he soliloquized mentally, ”but she is pretty!

If that flush would only last, she'd be beautiful; but she's too pale and f.a.gged for that--out to a ball last night, I imagine. She don't even notice that a man's admiring her--proof, indeed, that she must have danced till near morning, if not worse. What lives these girls lead, if half the stories are true! I'd like to see that one rested, fresh, and becomingly dressed. She'd make a sensation in a Fifth Avenue drawing-room if she had the sense to keep her mouth shut, and not show her ignorance and underbreeding.”

But he was growing impatient, and at last said, ”Oh, come, my dear, you've bought enough to break me already. We'll be late for dinner.”

The lady rose reluctantly, and remarked, ”Well, I think I'll come and look at these another day,” and they were bowed out of the door.

”You must be more alert,” said the foreman, imperatively, to Mildred.

”These people are among the best and wealthiest in town.”

”I'll try,” was the meek answer.

The gentleman had hardly reached the sidewalk, however, before all his chivalry and indignation were aroused. Under the press of Christmas times a drayman had overloaded his cart, and the horse was protesting in his dumb way by refusing to budge an inch; meanwhile the owner proved himself scarcely equal to the animal he drove by furious blows and curses, which were made all the more reckless by his recent indulgence in liquor.

The poor beast soon found many champions, and foremost among them was the critic of the weary shop-girl, who had suffered more that day than the horse was capable of suffering in his lifetime. The distinguished citizen, justly irate, I grant, sent his wife home in their carriage, and declared that he would neither eat nor sleep until he had seen the brute--the drayman, not the horse--arrested and looked up, and he kept his word.