Having gone into the office in such a state of mind, I wasn’t prepared for the shock when Mr. Barrett looked up from his desk and greeted me with a (for him) extremely amiable smile.
“Sit down, Miss Brewster,” he said pleasantly, pulling up a chair for me beside his own.
I sat down. It was time, for my knees were giving away under me.
“Miss Brewster,” Mr. Barrett began affably, “I have here”—and he picked up a paper on which he had made some notations—“a call for a stenographer which is a little out of the ordinary line.” He paused to let that sink in.
“Yes, sir,” I murmured respectfully. My heart began to beat freely again. He wasn’t going to lecture me about skipping school!
“Mrs. Osgood Harper,” continued Mr. Barrett crisply, “telephoned me this morning personally, and asked if I had a young lady whom I could send her every day from nine until one to attend to her personal correspondence. She is very particular about the kind of person she wants; it must be someone who is refined and educated, as well as a good stenographer, for a good deal of her work will be social correspondence. She also intimated that the girl must be—er, reasonably good looking.”
He paused a second time and again I said meekly, “Yes, sir.” There didn’t seem to be anything else to say.
“I have carefully considered all the girls in the finishing class,” continued Mr. Barrett, “and you seem to be the only one I could consider for the position. I know Mrs. Harper and know that in some ways she will be hard to work for. But the pay she offers is generous; better than you could do as a beginner in a commercial house, and the hours are excellent, nine to one, leaving your afternoons free. Besides that, there will be the advantage to yourself of coming in contact with such people as the Harpers, and the pleasure of working in such beautiful surroundings. You are a girl who will appreciate such things. You know who the Harpers are, of course?”
I had never heard of them, but I was quite willing to be enlightened. The Harpers, it seemed, were in the first boatload of settlers that landed on our town site; they had since accumulated such a fortune that it made Pike’s Peak look like an ant hill; and no matter what string Mrs. Harper harped on, people were sure to sit still and listen. Now she desired a personal stenographer of maidenly form, and I, Sahwah the Sunfish, had been measured by the awe-inspiring Mr. Barrett and found fit.
My feelings as I came out of the office were far different from those with which I went in. I entered with a guilty droop; I came out with my head in the air. I hadn’t dreamed of getting such a position to start with. I had pictured myself as beginning at the bottom in some big office and slowly working to the top. But to begin my career by doing the private work of Mrs. Osgood Harper! It seemed like some fairy tale. I tried to think of something to say to Mr. Barrett to thank him for having recommended me for the position, but the shock had sent my wits skylarking, and the only thing that came into my head was that song that we used to sing: