"It feels queerly. It jars so."
"That's the machinery and the noise. The whole building just shakes and buzzes when we get fairly started. Don't be scared. You're all safe. Lots of girls feel just that way when they first come. Lots of 'em faint away. Some can't stand it at all. But you'll get used, don't fear. I was one of the fainters, and I kept it up quite a spell. The 'boss' of the room got so mad he told me if I didn't quit fainting I'd have to quit spinning. So I made a bold face and haven't fainted since. You see, I couldn't afford to. I had to do this or starve."
By this time Amy's fright was past, and she was regarding her comforter with that friendly gratitude which won her the instant liking of the other, who resumed:—
"Pshaw! The girls didn't know what they were saying. You don't look a mite stuck up. You aren't, are you?"
"Indeed, no. Why should I be? But I do thank you so much for your kindness just now, and I'm sorry if my blundering has made you late. Will you be 'docked'?"
"Oh, no. We've time enough. Gwen is always in a desperate hurry. She likes a chance to talk before she begins work. She's a nice girl, but she isn't very deep. Say, have you seen her new winter hat?"
"No; has she another than that she wore this morning?"
"My! yes."
The "old hand" and the "new" were now quietly climbing to the top floor where their tasks were to be side by side, and Amy had time to examine her companion's face. It was plain and freckled, boasting none of that "prettiness" of which Gwendolyn was so openly proud, but it was gentle and intelligent, and had a look of delicacy which suggested chronic suffering, patiently borne. Amy had not far to seek the cause of this pathetic expression, for Mary Reese was a hunchback. In her attire there was as much simplicity as in Amy's own, but without grace or harmony of coloring.
"You're looking at my clothes, aren't you? Well, they're the great trouble of my life. After I pay my board and washing, I don't have more than fifty cents left. I do the best I can, but I'm no hand with a needle, and Saturday-halves are short. I thought you were the loveliest thing I ever saw, that day you went round the mill with the 'Supe.'"