ess. No more models were wanted. There
was nothing that Miss Child could do, and the only result of her visit
was delight in the heart of Miss Devereux because "that queer Child
girl was laughing on the wrong side of her mouth." The new manageress
was so preoccupied in manner and so sure that Miss Child's services
would not be needed that Win did not even leave her address. Besides,
as it happened, she had given Miss Hampshire "notice," and had not yet
found another boarding-house.
"I think I ought to try to get into a cheaper place," she explained.
And that was a reason; but another, just as important, was pretty Miss
Seeker's jealousy because Mr. Loewenfeld talked too much to the English
girl at the table.
After all, the best that Win could accomplish after three days' dismal
search was a saving of two dollars a week. For eight dollars she
secured a fourth-story back hall bedroom half as big and half as clean
as Miss Hampshire's, and she laughed aloud to find herself feeling
desperately homesick for the "frying pan." For Win could still laugh.
It was counting her money, the day after a servant at the new
boarding-house stole twenty dollars, that whisked Miss Child's skirt
within reach of the Hands. Things could not go on like this. She must
get something to do at once--no matter what. Another girl in that
house bought newspapers for the sake of the employment notices.
Winifred borrowed the papers and answered many of the most attractive
offers in vain. Next she tried the less attractive ones. When they
were used up--and she also--she came down to what she called bed rock.
In bed rock were advertisements of several large stores for extra help
through the holiday season. Of these Peter Rolls's store was at the
head. "The Hands want hands," was part of the appeal, and Win
instantly turned to something else. It was not until she had applied
for work at six other shops, and found herself too late at all, that
it began to seem faintly possible for her to think of going to Peter
Rolls's father's store.
When the idea did knock at the door of her mind hesitatingly as Peter
junior used to knock at the dryad door, the Hands' advertisement for
help was the last of its kind in the papers. The Hands needed more
hands than any of the other stores.
When Win was just about to say to herself, "That's the one thing I
couldn't do," she remembered Miss Seeker's words. Miss Rolls ruled her
father and mother socially. Peter sen
|