ent retort that rose momentarily to her lips. The insolence
of some customers was always trying to the sensitive, high-spirited
girl, but today it seemed unbearable. Her head throbbed fiercely with
the pain of the ever-increasing ache, and--what was the lady on her
right saying to a friend?

"Yes, she had typhoid, you know--a very bad form. She rallied from it,
but she was so exhausted that she couldn't really recover, and the
doctor said--"

"Really," interrupted Mrs. Liddell's sharp voice, "may I ask you to
attend to me, if you please? No doubt gossip may be very interesting
to you, but I am accustomed to having a clerk pay _some_ small
attention to my requirements. If you cannot attend to your business, I
shall go to the floor walker and ask him to direct me to somebody who
can. The laziness and disobligingness of the girls in this store is
really getting beyond endurance."

A passionate answer was on the point of Marcella's tongue. All her
bitterness and suffering and resentment flashed into her face and
eyes. For one moment she was determined to speak out, to repay Mrs.
Liddell's insolence in kind. A retort was ready to her hand. Everyone
knew that Mrs. Liddell, before her marriage to a wealthy man, had been
a working girl. What could be easier than to say contemptuously: "You
should be a judge of a clerk's courtesy and ability, madam. You were a
shop girl yourself once?"

But if she said it, what would follow? Prompt and instant dismissal.
And Patty? The thought of the little sister quelled the storm in
Marcella's soul. For Patty's sake she must control her temper--and she
did. With an effort that left her white and tremulous she crushed back
the hot words and said quietly: "I beg your pardon, Mrs. Liddell. I
did not mean to be inattentive. Let me show you some of our new
lingerie waists, I think you will like them."

But Mrs. Liddell did not like the new lingerie waists which Marcella
brought to her in her trembling hands. For another half hour she
examined and found fault and sneered. Then she swept away with the
scornful remark that she didn't see a thing there that was fit to
wear, and she would go to Markwell Bros. and see if they had anything
worth looking at.

When she had gone, Marcella leaned against the counter, pale and
exhausted. She must have a breathing spell. Oh, how her head ached!
How hot and stifling and horrible everything was! She longed for the
country herself. Oh, if she and Patty cou