"How long before you can probably give me something to do?" inquired Mrs. Codman, apprehensively.
"Can't say," was the careless reply. "It may be a month, or six weeks. You can call round in four or five weeks."
"What am I to do between now and then?" thought the poor woman, her heart sinking.
She must get something to do. She could not live otherwise, more especially since the rise in the rent, and her resources had been so largely diminished by the withdrawal of Charlie's services.
She applied at several other shops which she passed on the way home, but found, in every case, that they were already overrun with applications, and in the slack of business would be compelled to discharge some of those at present employed.
But the hour is the darkest that's just before day, and when fortune has done its worst, oftentimes the tide turns, and affairs improve.
So it proved with Mrs. Codman.
On reaching home, not a little depressed at the idea of remaining inactive, when she stood so much in need of the proceeds of her labor, Mrs. Codman had scarcely removed her bonnet and shawl, when she heard a knock at her door.
In answer to her "Come in," the door opened, and the washer-woman, who roomed just above, entered.
"How do you do, Mrs. O'Grady?" said Mrs. Codman.