She gave such perfect satisfaction that it was scarcely five minutes after she began that a delicate snore began to proceed from Miss Frink’s slender nose. Millicent regarded the recumbent figure in some embarrassment, and stopped reading.
Miss Frink’s eyes opened at once. “Well, well, child, what are you waiting for?” she asked testily. “Got a big word?”
Millicent, crimsoning to the tips of her ears, began again to read. She was afraid to stop, although the snoring began again almost immediately, and read on and on in the novel of the day. Although Miss Frink was a lady of the old school, she proposed to know what was going on in the world at the present time, and she always bought the book which received the best reviews, though Millicent came to wonder how she made anything of it in the hashed condition in which it penetrated her consciousness.
At last, when the lady was positively fast asleep, Millicent closed the book, took her hat and wrap in her hand, and went noiselessly out into the hall and down the stairs.
Mrs. Lumbard met her at the foot, and the young girl accosted her.
“This is Mrs. Lumbard, isn’t it?” she said shyly. “I am Millicent Duane. Miss Frink didn’t tell me what to do if she went to sleep.”
“You guessed right,” returned the other. “There is nothing to do but leave her until she has her nap out. You have evidently qualified.” Mrs. Lumbard laughed; it was not a pleasant laugh Millicent thought. “I tried to read to her, but she wouldn’t have me. Won’t you sit down a minute, or are you too busy?”
Millicent hesitated, but seated herself near the other in the spacious hall with its broad fireplace. “I am not busy at all,” she said, “and it seems so strange after being a whole year in the store.”
“I suppose you mean the Ross-Graham establishment. That is the store in Farrandale, is it not?”