“I give it up!” he cried. “Have it your own way, but if I eat sweets until I lose all my teeth, upon your heads be the blame. It isn’t every man who has a hundred dollars worth to pick from as he chooses.”
“You won’t have very long, because I expect to pay back in more ways than just candies,” cried Constance, merrily.
“But you surely don’t want all that?” she added, laying her hands upon the seven boxes lying upon the counter.
“Yes, I do! My soul, if she isn’t trying to do me out of my own purchases. Here, young lady, give me those boxes. I want them right in my own hands before you have some new protest to put forth,” and hastily piling his seven pounds of candy upon his arm, Mr. Porter fled for the elevator, leaving Mammy and Constance to laugh at his speedy departure.
At length all was arranged, the booth with its array of dainty boxes making a brave display.
Constance and Mammy stood for a moment looking at it before taking their departure, well pleased with the result of their undertaking. Then with a pleasant good morning to Miss Willing, whose eyes and ears had been more than busy during the past hour, they departed, leaving the little candy booth, its cash box, and its very unusual announcement upon the sign which swung above it, to prove or disprove the faith which one young girl felt in her fellow beings.
[CHAPTER XXIV—One Month Later]
One month had passed since the eventful opening day. A month of hard, incessant work for Constance, Mammy and Jean, who insisted upon doing her share. It was nearly March, and the air already held a hint of spring. The pussy-willows were beginning to peep out upon the world, and in sheltered spots far away in the woodland the faint fragrance of arbutus could be detected.
From her opening day, Constance’s venture had prospered, and the little candy booth’s popularity became a fact assured. Up betimes every morning, Constance had her kettles boiling merrily and by seven o’clock many pounds of candy were ready to be packed in the dainty boxes. Then came Jean’s part of the work and never had she failed to come to time. True to her word to be a “sure-enough partner,” she was up bright and early and had her candies wrapped and packed before her breakfast was touched. Mammy and Baltie, soon became familiar figures in South Riveredge, and many of Constance’s patrons believed the old woman to be the real mover of the enterprise. How she found time to convey the candy boxes to the booth, arrange them with such care, collect the money deposited there the previous day by the rapidly increasing number of customers, and still reach home in time to prepare the mid-day meal with her usual care, was a source of wonder to all. Yet do it she did, and her pride and ambition for the success of the venture rivaled Constance’s. Failure was not even to be dreamed of. No one ever guessed the hours stolen from her sleep by the good soul to make up for the hours stolen from her daily duties, but many a night after bidding the family an ostentatious “good-night, ladies,” and betaking herself to her bedroom above stairs, did she listen until every sound was hushed and then creep back to her kitchen and work softly until everything was completed to her satisfaction.
Friday afternoons and Saturdays, Constance took matters into her own hands, and she soon discovered that another mode of transportation for her candy would be imperative, so rapidly was the demand for Constance B.’s Candies increasing. So after the first two weeks the local expressman was pressed into service, and the old colored man, who for years had run the elevator in the Arcade, received the boxes upon their delivery.