"Well, of course."
At that they all laughed, and, after having cooled down a little, one of the girls said:
"You don't seem to know London ways yet, and we shall have to do a little for you. In such clothes you will never get a situation; I can give you that by writing, my dear."
"But what am I to do?"
"Leave her alone," the fair girl intervened; "she who does not possess chic by nature will never acquire it."
The others seemed to agree with this, and said no more about me. When all of them had their hats on, they began to hunt in their trunks and bags for such things as a pair of gloves without holes, a handkerchief that was clean, and so forth.
At last they were ready to go, and I kept behind them in the street because I thought they were ashamed of me. The remark, however, that one of the girls had made—namely, "that she could give it to me by writing," that I would never find a post in such clothes—haunted and troubled me.
It was most important for me to find a situation as soon as possible if I did not want to ask for more money from my friend. And that I would not do. I had sent him a few cards during the journey, but was going to write him a long letter as soon as I knew how matters stood; and so full was I with that one thought that to-day I cared little for what went on around me. Only once when we went over a mighty bridge did I stop, and look enraptured at a swarm of greyish birds such as I had never seen before. They were sea-gulls.
After much wandering which made me very tired and recalled to my memory the old pains in my knees, the girls stopped at last in front of a beautiful house and entered gaily. I followed them into a large room, and on the benches and chairs there sat girls who apparently were also looking for situations. At a writing-desk an elderly lady and a young girl were sitting and writing diligently in large books which were placed in front of them.