d that she had interrupted a meal. Whether she had or not,
he was glad to see her and asked if he could help her. Mavis told him
how she was situated. In reply, he said that he had a friend who was a
man of some importance in a West-end emporium. He asked her if she
would like a letter of introduction to this person. Mavis jumped at the
offer. When he had written the letter, Mavis asked after his daughter,
to learn that she was staying at Margate with her mother. When Mavis
thanked and said good-bye to Mr Goss, he warmly pressed the hand that
she offered.

The next day, she presented herself at the great house of business
where Mr Goss's friend was to be found. His name was Evans. It was only
after delay that she was able to see him. He was a grave,
kindly-looking man, who scanned Mavis with interest before he read Mr
Goss's letter. Mavis could almost hear the beating of her heart while
she waited to see if he could offer her anything.

"I'm sorry," he said, as he folded up the letter.

Mavis could not trust herself to speak.

"Very sorry I can't oblige you or Mr Goss," continued the man. "All our
vacancies were filled last week. I've nothing at present."

Mavis turned to go.

"You want something to do at once?" said Mr Evans, as he noticed the
girl's dismay.

Mavis nodded. The man went on:

"They'd probably take you at Dawes'."

"Dawes'!" echoed Mavis hopefully.

"Do you know anything of Dawes'?"

"Everyone knows Dawes'," smiled Mavis.

"But do you know anything of the place, as it affects girls who live
there?"

"No," answered Mavis, who scarcely heeded what Mr Evans was saying; all
her thoughts were filled by a great joy at a prospect of getting work.

She was conscious of the man saying something about her consulting Mrs
Goss before thinking of going there; but she did not give this aspect
of the matter another moment's thought.

"What name shall I ask for?" asked Mavis.

"Mr Orgles, if you go."

"Thank you so much. May I mention your name?"

"If you decide to go there, certainly."

Mavis thanked him and was gone. She, at once, made for Dawes'. The girl
knew exactly where it was, its name and situation being a household
word to women living in London. Arrived there, she glanced appealingly
at the splendid plate-glass windows, as if beseeching them to mitigate
some of their aloofness. She approached one of the glass doors, which
was opened by a gorgeously attired official. When inside, she lo