My first day at wage-earning. Didn't provide any lunch.
Can you spare some for me? Ah, Gwendolyn, good day."

Then another person appeared in the doorway--one whom nobody present
cared to see just then, though the superintendent stepped from his
hiding-place, the mirth dying out of his genial face as he bowed
respectfully to his superior, Mr. Archibald Wingate, the owner of
Ardsley Mill and of most of the surrounding property.

"Good day, Metcalf. Eh? What? Amy? Hallam? You here?"

"Yes, cousin Archibald. We are both here and working for you," answered
Amy, quietly. Then she surprised even herself by extending her hand in
greeting.

CHAPTER XIX.

MOTIVES AND MISUNDERSTANDINGS.

For an instant it seemed as if the old man would respond to the
proffered civility; but his hand dropped again to his side, and Amy had
the mortification of one who is repulsed. However, she had little time
for thought. The master of the mill passed onward into his "den" and
closed its door with a snap. On the ground glass which admitted light
through the upper half the door, yet effectually screened from
observation any who were within, was printed in large letters:--

"Private. No Admittance."

Then the girl turned an inquiring face toward the superintendent, who
took her hand and shook it warmly.

"Allow me to congratulate you, Miss Amy. You have done well,--famously,
even. There's not been a girl in the mill, since I've had charge, who
has learned so swiftly and thoroughly. What's the secret of it? Can you
guess?"

She had not been summoned for a reprimand, then. In her relief at this,
the young operative scarcely heard the question put to her, and the
gentleman replied to it himself.

"I can tell you. It's your untiring perseverance, your persistent effort
to do your best, without regard to anything or anybody about you. If all
our girls would take example by you, promotions would be more frequent."

Gwendolyn resented the glance with which the superintendent now favored
her, and Amy would have preferred not to be so openly praised. She drew
a chair to the table where Hallam sat, and hastily spread her luncheon
upon it.

"Come, Gwendolyn, bring yours. While we're eating, Hal shall tell us
what this all means."

He did so, rapidly, and between mouthfuls, for the half-hour's nooning
had already been cut short by the unexpected meetings; and when the
whistle sounded and the girls hurried back to their room, Amy carrie