Like one in a dream Elaine heard herself concluding the arrangements for her plunge. She listened to the outlining of her duties, without any clear idea of what was said, agreed to the amount of her salary, without knowing whether it was more or less than she had hoped, and finally found herself outside with Peggy, in the dazed, uncertain mood of one who is not quite sure whether she has been dreaming or not.
"Isn't it glorious?" Peggy's enthusiastic comment sounded wide-awake enough, at all events. "You're a wage-earner, Elaine. Doesn't that sound imposing? Don't you think Uncle John's a dear? I'm coming down some afternoon when I haven't anything to do, and look at all those blue-prints. There's something awfully fascinating in the things you don't know anything about."
Elaine reflected that in this case she was likely to find untold fascination in her new occupation. Her answers to Peggy's cheerful chatter were rather vague. Now that she had taken the final step her courage was ebbing. Her mother's warnings, which she had brushed aside with a sense of irritation when they were spoken, sounded in her ears with monotonous insistence. After her reckless mood of the afternoon had come the inevitable reaction of tremulous cowardice. Why had she ever done it? What had made her suppose herself qualified for such a position? How was she ever going to bear it?
If this was her mood, when sustained by the cheerful companionship of Peggy, it was worse after they had said good night. Mrs. Marshall had received the news of her daughter's prospective advent into business life with a burst of tears, after which she had refused to partake of the evening meal and had retired to her room. Elaine, herself, had choked down her food with difficulty, and went to bed at last with the firm conviction that dreams of the night, however unpleasant, could be no worse than the nightmare of her waking hours. She was not quite clear as to whether she had already disgraced the family name by the work she had chosen, or merely was about to disgrace it, by proving her woeful inefficiency. Whichever was true, she could see nothing but blackness ahead, and as she tossed on her pillow, flushed and wakeful, she wished though vainly for the relief of tears.
CHAPTER XVIII
A REMARKABLE EVENING
A wakeful restless night is not the best of preparations for launching out in untried activities. The pale, tremulous Elaine, who presented herself at Mr. John Mannering's office the next morning, was far less equal to the ordeal of being "sized up" than she had been the previous day. A soldier, on the eve of his first battle, may have sensations very like those of Elaine, as she seated herself at the desk and began her unfamiliar work.
Time in a business office is a deliberate affair, Elaine soon discovered. It was no wonder that much was accomplished when the hours were two or three times as long as the easy-going hours with which she was best acquainted. At ten o'clock she was impatient for luncheon. At eleven she wanted to go home. By noon she was ready for bed.
The other girl in the office gave her information in more or less technical terms, which left Elaine little the wiser. It was incredible that she could ever master the meaning of the phrases Miss Newell rattled off so glibly. Each new item, as she gave it her attention, crowded out all that had gone before. She felt like a spent swimmer, clutching desperately at slippery, water-soaked stalks, to find each giving way in her hand. And when Miss Newell had finished Elaine was gasping, like a swimmer who has come to the surface after going under.
The middle of the afternoon found her tired, bewildered and so near to complete disheartenment that it needed only a feather's weight addition to her load to wreck her weakened courage. As ill luck would have it, that trifling extra was forthcoming. About three o'clock the office door swung ajar to admit a florid gentleman, accompanied by two young girls. Elaine, recalling Miss Newell's instructions, rose hastily and approached them.