“It’s a good principle, Hattie, and I know you live up to it, which is more than can be said of a great many in the shop. I’ll put this volume in the sewer’s hands. Do the rest in your own time. It is a job I never expected to carry through. It has been laying here over a year untouched. When you get it done, I have three or four more almost as bad.”
Hattie bowed her head, but made no reply. The foreman had never been quite so talkative or complacent before. He was generally stern, sharp, and imperative with all under him.
When he went away she murmured to herself:
“What can all this mean? Mr. Jones has softened in his tone. It used to be ‘hurry up, Hattie, hurry up; we can’t have no lazing ’round in this shop!’ Now, when my wages are nearly treble, and it should be expected I should exert myself all the more, I am told to take my time. Ah, me! I hope no clouds will come to cover this sudden gleam of sunshine.”
CHAPTER IX.
“LIZZIE, I’VE SEEN HER!”
And young Legare heaved a great sigh when he confronted his sister with this declaration on his lips.
“Who—Frank—who?” asked Miss Legare, looking up from a book of fashion plates which were engrossing her attention as he entered her special sitting-room, or boudoir, as she termed it.
For she had been educated at Vassar, and could not descend to ordinary terms.
“Who? Just as if you did not remember my errand down town. I have been to W——’s bindery.”
“Oh! that bindery girl!”