So, moved rather by curiosity to see how it would turn out, than a belief in Patty’s ability, she said, coldly:
“I will do as you ask. You may go to the workroom for to-day; but on the understanding that unless you show unusual skill or aptitude to learn, you are not to be paid anything, nor are you to come to-morrow.”
“All right,” said Patty, smiling jubilantly at having received her opportunity, at least.
Miss O’Flynn took her to a workroom, where several girls were busily engaged in various sorts of millinery work.
“Sit here, Miss Fairfield,” and Miss O’Flynn indicated a chair at one end of a long table. “You may line this hat.”
Then she gave Patty an elaborate velvet hat, trimmed with feathers, and materials for sewing. She also gave her white silk for the lining of the hat, and a piece stamped with gilt letters, which Patty knew must be placed inside the crown.
It all seemed easy,—too easy, in fact, for Patty aspired to making velvet rosettes, and placing ostrich plumes.
But she knew she was being tested, and she set to work at her task with energy.
Though she had never lined a hat before, she knew in a general way how it should be done, and she tried to go about it with an air of experience. The other girls at the table cast furtive glances at her.
Though they were not rude, they showed that air of hostile criticism, so often shown by habitués to a newcomer, though based on nothing but prejudiced curiosity.