The next morning Nan went with Patty to take the centrepieces back to the embroidery company.
“I shall really like to see that woman,” said Nan, as they reached the shop.
“I’m sorry for her,” said Patty; “she’s so pathetically weary and hopeless-looking.”
So she was, and when Nan saw her, she felt sorry for her, too.
“Couldn’t work as fast as you thought?” she said to Patty, not unkindly, but with the hard smile that seemed to be permanently fastened to her face.
“No, I couldn’t,” confessed Patty. “I only worked part of one piece. I’ve brought all the rest back, in good order, and I want you to redeem them.”
In her mechanical way, the woman took the untouched centrepieces, looked at them critically, and laid them aside. Then she took up the piece Patty had worked on.
“I’ll have to deduct for this,” she said; “a dollar and a half.”
“What do you mean?” asked Nan, angry at what she considered gross injustice. “Miss Fairfield does not ask payment; she is giving you all that work.”
“She has spoiled this piece for our use. She works nicely enough, but no two people work exactly alike, so no one else could now take this and complete the corner. So, you see the piece is valueless, and we must charge for it. Moreover, I should have to deduct fifty cents if it had been finished, because long stitches show on the wrong side.”