She was now alone with Mary at her "jenny," and had already become so expert that those who understood such matters prophesied she would soon be promoted to the "twisting and doubling." That very morning the "boss" of their room had said to her:—
"We never had a girl come here who got on so fast. It mostly takes months to learn a half-machine. After another three she can mind both sides. That means about four dollars and a half a week. Well, you've been quick and faithful, and nobody could envy your good luck."
As she picked up her lunch basket and descended toward the office, more than one called after her a good wish.
"Don't you be scared of the 'Supe.' If he scolds and you aren't to blame, just tell him so, and he'll like you the better."
"Maybe he's going to promote you a'ready, though I don't see how he could. I won't be jealous if he does, though," cried another; and Gwendolyn, the inquisitive, resolved to keep up Amy's spirits by accompanying her to the interview.
"But, Gwen, did he send for you?"
"No; course not. If he did, I shouldn't feel so chipper. There ain't no love lost 'twixt the 'Supe' and me."
"Then maybe—"
"Trash! I'm going. Ain't I the one that fetched you here in the first place? Hadn't I ought to stand by you, thick or thin?"
"Yes, I suppose so," answered Amy, more frightened by Gwendolyn's suggestive manner than by any consciousness of blunders made. Nor did she remind her neighbor that for a time, at first, while Amy's popularity had not been determined, the other had shrewdly held aloof, waiting the turn of the tide. Fortunately, this had been in the "new hand's" direction, and since then Gwendolyn's attentions had been almost overpowering.