“Did you trim the one you have on?”
“Well, no,” admitted Patty. “I brought this from Paris. But I am sure I can trim hats to suit you. May I try?”
“What experience have you had?”
“Well,—not any professional experience. You see, it is only recently that I have desired to earn my own living.”
“Oh,—sudden reverses,” murmured Miss O’Flynn, thinking she had solved the problem. “Well, my dear, you have evidently been brought up a lady, so it will be hard for you to find work. I am sorry to say I cannot employ you, as I engage only skilled workwomen.”
“But trimming hats doesn’t require professional skill,” said Patty. “Only good taste and a,—a sort of knack at bows and things.”
Miss O’Flynn laughed.
“Everything requires professional skill,” she returned. “A course of training is necessary for any position.”
“But if you’d try me,” said Patty, quite unconscious that her tone was pleading. “Just give me a day’s trial, and if I don’t make good, you needn’t pay me anything.”
Miss O’Flynn was more puzzled than ever. Insistent though Patty was, it didn’t seem to her the insistence of a poor girl wanting to earn her bread; it was more like the determination of a wilful child to attain its desire.