“Isn’t Mattie the ignorant, impractical old infant!” thought Lester.
She got up now, with a long breath, and silently took herself off.
Although it was long past time to start supper, she did not go home. She went straight down to Willing’s and into the Cloak-and-Suits. Eva was busy with customers as usual. “Everybody wants Eva to wait on them,” thought Mattie, sitting down heavily. Her eyes were fixed on Evangeline. What a splendid woman she was, and, now she had some money to spend on her clothes, what a stylish-looking woman! There wasn’t anybody in town could hold a candle to her. Mattie made these reflections automatically. These were always the first thoughts which came to her when she saw Eva.
But to-day, ravaged as she was by this new perception, in which she was so all alone, her mind dwelt little on style. What she saw to-day was Eva’s face, alert, interested, sympathetic, and Eva’s eyes, which had always had, so Mattie remembered, “a sort of wild look,” now so shining and quiet, looking from the suits she was showing to her customers. They were a couple of women from out in the country, elderly mother and grown-up daughter. Mattie was too far off to hear what was said, but she understood perfectly from the pantomime and from the expression of the three faces, what the situation was. The two women had thrown themselves on Eva’s taste to help them make up their minds, and Eva, looking at them intently, was putting herself whole-heartedly in their places so that she could give them her best judgment. How happy she looked!
As she watched, a lump came into Mattie’s throat, and she felt her eyes hot and misty. What in time was the matter with her? She swallowed hard and looked away and tried to think of something else. But she could not. Lester and Stephen and Henry and Helen ... and Eva! ... came and stood before her eyes—her opened eyes.
“My goodness! I mustn’t get to crying here in the store!” she thought, alarmed, starting up and going to the window.
When she turned around, Eva’s customers had made their decision, a momentous one, judging from the relief on their faces. The three women were chatting and smiling together, relaxed and cheerful. Mattie heard Eva say, “I know you’ll take the greatest comfort in it!” She went with her customers to the head of the stairs, talking like an old friend. They shook hands with her, respectfully, cordially. Then she turned around and came almost running back towards Mattie. “Mattie, I’ve got something to tell you,” she said hurriedly, smiling. She looked around her to make sure no one was near and lowered her voice, “Miss Flynn’s niece has died and leaves four little children and their father wants Miss Flynn—he hasn’t got any relative of his own—to go and bring the children up and keep house for him. He’s in the greenhouse business at Cleveland. Plenty of money. And she is going.”
Mattie did not understand this. She understood few things at once. She saw nothing but Eva’s curving, smiling lips and bright shining eyes. She understood them with no difficulty.
“Don’t you see?” whispered Eva. “Somebody’s going to be moved up to her place, head of the department. They’re going to give me a try at it. Aren’t they good! Mattie! It’s three thousand a year! And a bonus for extra sales! And such fascinating work! I’m wild to get my hands on it and see what I can do with the salesgirls. Oh, Mattie, we can begin to lay by a little something every month for the children’s college. Perhaps we can buy a Ford that Lester can get out in with the children. Oh, Mattie!”