ior was allowed to show his nose
in the place only about once a year. Mrs. and Miss Rolls never bought
a pin there. Young Peter didn't bother, but wanted to be a
philanthropist. In fact, you would, apparently, be far more likely to
meet a member of the Rolls family in any other shop than their own.

Instead of saying that she could not, Win said: "Why shouldn't I?" She
told herself that in a vast house of business which employed over two
thousand salespeople she would be a needle in a haystack--a needle
with a number, not a name. "I'll go and ask for a place," she answered
her own question.

But almost she hoped that she would not succeed. If she tried, failure
would not be her fault.

CHAPTER VIII

NO. 2884

Morning and girl were gray with cold as Win hovered before the vast
expanse of plate glass which made of Peter Rolls's department store a
crystal palace. Customers would not be admitted for an hour, yet the
lovely wax ladies and the thrilling wax men in the window world wore
the air of never having stopped doing their life work since they were
appointed to it.

But then they had a life work of the most charming description.
Winifred envied them. It was indeed their business to make all men,
women, and children who passed envy them enough to stop, enter the
store, and purchase things to make real life as much as possible like
life in the window world.

All the nicest things which could be done in the strenuous outside
world could in a serene and silent way be done in window world. And
the lovely ladies and their thrilling men had not to hustle from one
corner of the earth to another in order to find different amusements.

In one section of plate-glass existence beautiful girls were being
dressed by their maids for a ball. Some were almost ready to start.
Exquisite cloaks were being folded about their shoulders by
fascinating French soubrettes with little lace caps like dabs of
whipped cream. Other willowy creatures were lazy enough to be still in
filmy "princess" petticoats and long, weblike, silk corsets
ensheathing their figures nearly to their knees. A realistic
dressing-table, a lace-canopied bed, and pale-blue curtains formed
their background. Instead of having to rush half across New York to
the dance, it was apparently taking place next door, with only a thin
partition as a wall.

In a somewhat Louis Seize room several wondrous wax girls and the same
number of young men, with extremely br