"What 'ave yer done now?" inquired Mrs. Smithkins.
"Made 'er laugh! Said I would. I fair 'ate to see a glum look on a pretty face. You've lost yer friend, Miss Stornway. Now, won't yer come in an' 'ave a cosy cup o' tea along o' me?"
"An' see 'er wunnerful pictures," sniggered Mrs. Smithkins.
"Jist be off with yer. To the pure all things is white as wool. Shakespeare! Miss Stornway's a real laidy. She knows Shakespeare, I bet. You ask 'er."
All this certainly succeeded in distracting Evarne's mind.
"Thank you," she said. "I shall very much like to come."
The visit turned out very successful, though it was perforce but brief, as the girl had to be back at her labours again. Only by uninterrupted industry could the requisite number of blouses be finished, and Evarne, with only a few weeks' practice at machining, was far less rapid than had been Miss Brodie with her ten years' experience. Milly, the new fourteen-year-old apprentice, was clumsy and somewhat idle, so that there was now less time than ever in Evarne's life for protracted afternoon calls.
Day after day she worked with a will, and though at first her uttermost endeavours only brought in about fourteen-and-sixpence each week, she rapidly grew more skilful. Milly, too, became quicker and more useful, and things were thus promising to become decidedly easier when an unforeseen accident occurred. It was just one of those foolish little mishaps that nobody can always succeed in guarding against. This one was very unromantic in its origin. Evarne was seated on the side of one of the public baths, polishing and paring and generally attending to her pretty pink feet and nails, when somehow she lost her balance and fell. In saving herself from splashing half-dressed into the water, she contrived to drive the point of the scissors into her finger, right down to the bone.
It only left a little wound, which Mrs. Harbert tied up with a piece of rag, and although it was the right hand, the girl continued her work next day as if nothing had happened. But in the night the pain grew so bad that it awoke her and prevented her sleeping again, while the daylight showed the wounded finger to be ominously blue and swollen. This spread with terrible rapidity and ere long her hand was totally useless. Full of alarm she hurried off to the hospital, and had her suspicions of blood-poisoning confirmed. The poor hand was carefully bandaged up and put into a sling, and, almost overwhelmed by this new anxiety, the girl returned home to see what could be done about her work.
Everything now devolved upon Milly. Evarne contrived to cut out the blouses with her left hand, and to do a little tacking, but all else had to be left to the apprentice. Evarne could but encourage and supervise, and wearying work that proved. Even in these new circumstances Milly was still slow and idle, and if she was pressed to work faster, she ceased sewing altogether and whimpered.