oise for a second, and one said, "My! ain't she
stunning?" A young fellow, rather spruce in his own way also, with
precise necktie, deep paper cuffs and dollar-store studs and initial
sleeve-buttons, touched his hat with an air of taking credit to
himself, as she glanced at him; and another, in a sober old gray
suit, with only a black ribbon knotted under his linen collar,
turned slightly the other way as she approached, and with something
like a frown between his brows, looked out of the window at a
wood-pile.

Marion's cheeks were a tint brighter, and her white teeth seemed to
flash out a yet more determined smile, as, passing him by, she
seated herself with friendly bustle among some girls a little behind
him.

"In again, Marion?" said one. "I thought you'd left."

"Only in for a transient," said Marion, with a certain clear tone
that reminded one of the stage-trainer's direction to "speak to the
galleries." "Nellie Burton is sick, and Lufton sent for me. I'll do
for a month or so, and like it pretty well; then I shall have a
tiff, I suppose, and fling it up again; I can't stand being ordered
round longer than that."

"Or longer than the _new_ lasts," said the other slyly, touching the
drapery sleeve of the zephyrine. "It _is_ awful pretty, Marry!"

"Yes, and while the new lasts Lufton'll be awful polite," returned
Marion. "He likes to see his girls look stylish, I can tell you.
When things begin to shab out, then the snubbing begins. And how
they're going to help shabbing out I should like to know, dragging
round amongst the goods and polishing against the counters? and
who's going to afford ready-made, or pay for sewing, out of six
dollars a week and cars and dinners, let alone regular board, that
some of 'em have to take off? Why there isn't enough left for shoes!
No wonder Lufton's always changing. Well--there's one good of it!
You can always get a temporary there. Save up a month and then put
into port and refit. That's the way I do."

"But what does it come to, after all's said and done? and what if
you hadn't the port?" asked Hannah Upshaw, the girl with the shawl
on, who never wore suits.

Marion Kent shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know, yet. I take things as they come to me. I don't
pretend to calculate for anybody else. I know one thing, though,
there is other things to be done,--and it isn't sewing-machines
either, if you can once get started. And when I can see my way
clear, I mean to start