This was awful! This was intolerable!
“Oh, but, my dear Mrs. Journay!” cried Mrs. Aldrich, immeasurably distressed. “I—don’t you see? I can’t! Let’s sit down and—”
“Thank you,” interrupted the other. “Then I must apply to the next place on my list.”
“Oh, dear!” said Mrs. Aldrich, for she could not endure the thought of Mrs. Journay going out into the rain again, and tramping about, looking for a position as cook. She could not endure to see this magnificent creature so humbled. “Can’t—something else be done?” she asked.
“Thank you, it cannot.”
“Then,” said Mrs. Aldrich, “if you really feel that you must, then please stay here with me.”
“Thank you. I shall ask you to allow me to use the telephone for the purpose of sending a message to my niece. May I safely say that I shall return to her at ten o’clock this evening?”
“Oh, much earlier! Whenever you like!”
“Pardon me,” said Mrs. Journay, “but I believe I understand the requirements of such a position.”