oked
about her curiously, fearfully. She was in a long room, down either
side of which ran a counter, behind which were stationed young women,
who bore themselves with a self-conscious, would-be queenly mien. The
space between the counters, to which the public was admitted, was
promenaded by frock-coated men, who piloted inexperienced customers to
where they might satisfy their respective wants. One of these
shop-walkers approached Mavis.

"Where can I direct you, madam?"

"I want to see Mr Orgles."

The man looked at her attentively.

"I've come from Mr Evans at Poole and Palfrey's," murmured Mavis.

The man left her and spoke to one of the regal young women, who stood
behind the counter as if trying to make believe that they were there,
not from necessity, but from choice.

The man returned to Mavis and told her to wait. As she stood in the
shop, she saw the young woman whom the man had spoken to mouth
something in a speaking tube; this person then whispered to two or
three other girls who stood behind the counter, causing them to stare
continuously at Mavis. Presently, the speaking tube whistled, when a
message came to say that if Miss Keeves would walk upstairs, Mr Orgles
would see her. The shop-walker walked before Mavis to show her the way.
She could not help noticing that the man's demeanour had changed: he
had approached her, when he first saw her, with the servility peculiar
to his occupation; now, having fathomed her errand, he marched before
her with elbows stuck out and head erect, as if to convey what an
important personage he was.

She was shown into a plainly furnished office, where she was told to
wait. She wondered if, at last, she would have any luck. She sat there
for about ten minutes, when a man came into the room, shutting the door
after him. He was about sixty-five, and walked with a stoop. His face
reminded Mavis of a camel. He had large bulging eyes, which seemed to
gaze at objects sideways. He looked like the deacon at a house of
dissenting worship, which, indeed, he was. Mavis rightly concluded this
person to be Mr Orgles.

"You wished to see me?" he asked.

"Mr Orgles?"

"That's my name."

Mavis explained why she had called: it was as much as she could do to
hide her anxiety. Mr Orgles not making any reply, she went on speaking,
saying how she would do her utmost to give satisfaction in the event of
her being engaged.

While she was pleading, she was conscious that the man wa