Yet on less than that sum Mrs. Conway knew it would be impossible to live. Indeed she could plainly see that, even if she succeeded in obtaining such a salary, she would have to make repeated incursions into that poor two hundred pounds, which was her one plank between the waters of the whirlpool where so many struggled for a little time and sank.
The prospect grew gloomier and gloomier; the [138] ]little wrinkle of worry that the voyage had smoothed away came back on the mother’s brow; Phyl and Dolly read the Situations Vacant column in the newspaper every morning over her shoulder, and with eyes as preternaturally grave as hers. Even Weenie had a knowledge that the position was a serious one.
There came a temporary help from a shy, silent man who was boarding in the same house. He belonged to a firm of big drapers in the city and had taken an unobtrusive interest in the efforts of the young widow to obtain employment.
“Of course you wouldn’t go into a shop,” he said to her one morning with nervous abruptness.
“If you mean my pride wouldn’t let me, you are wrong,” said Mrs. Conway; “I have entirely pocketed that. But it needs experience and reference from former employers—no one would have me.”
He told her of a temporary vacancy that had occurred in his own establishment; the lady who was head of one of the departments had fallen ill, and had been sent away for three months. If Mrs. Conway liked to come with him at once he would introduce her to the firm and could indeed promise her the work; he himself would undertake to teach her speedily the details of her position; what they chiefly wanted was a well-dressed, tactful person to be present in the show-room always to govern the young women who served, and in general to look [139] ]after the interests both of the firm and customers. The present head was drawing a salary of five pounds a week, but he was afraid the firm would not give more than three pounds to any one lacking experience—would Mrs. Conway consider that sufficient?
Mrs. Conway replied by hastening away with a tight feeling in her throat to put on her bonnet and gloves. She told him as they went along the street how she had been offered twenty-six pounds a year the day before at a registry office as governess for six children, and that that was the only genuine offer she had had.
“But this is not all roses,” said the quiet man, “it is spirit-breaking work at times.” He had at one time cherished hopes of entering one of the liberal professions himself.
“I have three little girls,” said the widow, hastening along.
She held the post until the permanent head of the department was restored to health; the children went daily to a cheap school near, and they lived quietly and economically in furnished rooms for the three months. Phyl and Dolly were grown up before they learned just what spirit-breaking work it had been; the little mother was always so bright and full of gaiety for them they had no idea at the time that it was even unpleasant.