“I won’t,” declared Nancy, blushing furiously now. “The idea—”
“Then, he will talk to your mother about it. Do you know, little girl, what a lot of money a big sale like that brings to Dad’s firm? And how much he would have to pay out in commission to the man who succeeded in making the sale?”
“I know one thing,” said Nancy, shifting herself out of the bed and planting two bare feet firmly upon the floor, “I’m being made a business woman, a store-keeper, a cooking school director, a plumber and now a real-estate agent. I don’t mind being a few things but that’s quite a—lot!”
“You haven’t said Enthusiast,” Ruth reminded her, “that is what counts most. But Nancy, you really ought to consider,” pressed Ruth. “The money would mean so much to your mother, and you have a perfect right to it. I knew the way you were tearing around that big place, that you would flim-flam Cullen,” joked Ruth. “And Dad says, a hundred dollars isn’t anything on a fifteen thousand dollar deal—”
“Fifteen thousand!”
“Yes, all of that. And here’s the little one hundred check,” Ruth was pressing a slip of paper into Nancy’s unwilling hand. “Dad will be dreadfully disappointed if you refuse—you’re not too proud, are you?”
“Too proud!” and the black eyes snapped little pin points of sparks. “No, indeed, I mean to be a business woman, like mother, and I don’t care how soon I start,” proclaimed Nancy, firmly.
“Spoken like—Nancy Brandon!” hailed Ruth, gleefully, for she had known all along what a task it would be to get Nancy to take the check. And just as she had honestly stated, the amount given Nancy was but a small fraction of that which a man from Mr. Ashley’s office would have had to receive for the same service.
Unbelieving, Nancy stared at the check.
“One hundred dollars!” she murmured, her eyes now beaming with anticipation. “And mother’s vacation only three days off!”