“What kind of work?” asked Molly, wide-eyed. “We couldn’t find her work to do.”
“I don’t know whether we could or not. She speaks as though she were used to domestic service.”
But Beth refrained from mentioning the fact that the appearance of Cynthia’s hands did not bear this out.
“Might introduce her to Madam Hammersly,” said Molly, really thinking about the situation now. “She is always hiring and discharging maids and waitresses. She is awfully particular.”
“But we’d want to get Cynthia a permanent position,” said Beth.
“Oh! if the madam liked her—if this girl could suit her—she would have a good situation. Madam pays well, I believe,” said Molly.
Just then the bundle of blankets on the berth began to heave, and a voice came from out of it, saying:
“’Nuff said! I take the job! Ow—yow! yow! Is it morning? Who’s this girl sitting on me, anyway?”
Molly got up in a hurry. Beth laughed, saying to the girl in the berth:
“How do you know the position will suit you, Cynthia?”