"If only Phenie could git work," she resumed, presently, giving me a peculiar side-glance with which custom had rendered me familiar, it being the invariable precursor of a request, or a sly suggestion. "She's only fifteen, an' she ain't over 'n' above strong, but she's got learnin'. She only left off school a year ago come spring, an' she can do right smart. There's Sam Weaver's gal, as lives nex' do' to us, she's got a place in the printin'-office where she 'arns her twenty-five dollars a month, an' she never seen the day as she could read like Phenie, an' she's ugly as sin, too."
It occurred to me just here that I had heard of an additional force being temporarily required in the Printing Bureau. I resolved to use what influence I possessed with a prominent official, a friend of "better days," to obtain employment for "Phenie," for, with all the poor woman's faults and weaknesses, I knew that her distress was genuine.
"I will see if I can find some employment for your daughter," I said, after reflecting a few moments. "Come here Saturday evening, and I will let you know the result."
I knew, by the sudden animation visible in Mrs. Angel's face, that this was what she had hoped for and expected.
When I came from the office on Saturday evening, I found Mrs. Angel and her daughter awaiting me. She had often alluded to Phenie with maternal pride, as a "good-lookin' gal," but I was entirely unprepared for such a vision as, at her mother's bidding, advanced to greet me. It occurred to me that Mrs. Angel herself must have once looked somewhat as Phenie did now, except as to the eyes. That much-contemned "he" must have been responsible for the large, velvety black eyes which met mine with such a timid, deprecating glance.
She was small and perfectly shaped, and there was enough of vivid coloring and graceful curve about her to have furnished a dozen ordinary society belles. Her hair fell loosely to her waist in the then prevailing fashion, a silken, wavy, chestnut mass. A shabby little hat was perched on one side her pretty head, and the tightly fitting basque of her dress of cheap faded blue exposed her white throat almost too freely. I was glad that I could answer the anxious pleading of those eyes in a manner not disappointing. The girl's joy was a pretty thing to witness as I told her mother that my application had been successful, and that Phenie would be assigned work on Monday.
"He 'lowed she wouldn't git in," remarked Mrs. Angel, triumphantly, "an' as fur Columbus, he didn't want her to git in no how."
"Oh maw!" interrupted Phenie, blushing like a June rose.
"Oh, what's the use!" continued her mother. "Columbus says he wouldn't 'low it nohow ef he'd got a good stan'. He says as soon as ever he gits inter business fur hisself——"