“Oh, anykind of a writing job,” she proffered quaveringly.
“I can't think of anything here that's not taken care of, except”—his glance fell on the ornate-looking “society page” of the Macon City Sunday Journal, spread out on his desk—“a society column.”
In her swift breath of ecstasy Missy forgot to note the twinkle in his eye.
“Oh, I'd love to write society things!” Ed Martin sat regarding her with a strange expression on his face.
“Well,” he said at last, as if to himself, “why not?” Then, addressing her directly: “You may consider yourself appointed official Society Editor of the Cherryvale Beacon.”
The title rolled with surpassing resonance on enchanted ears. She barely caught his next remark.
“And now about the matter of salary—”
Salary! Missy straightened up.
“What do you say to five dollars a week?” he asked.
Five dollars a week!—Five dollars every week! And earned by herself! Missy's eyes grew big as suns.