“And what are you going to take up?”
“We have taken it up—Polly and I have been studying Interior Decorating for two years, now.”
“Interior Decorating! Good gracious—isn’t that the sort of work the upholsterers and painters have to do for you?” gasped the lady.
Eleanor laughed again. Here was fun indeed! So she carefully fed the fuel now beginning to take fire in her companion’s brain. “I am afraid it has been their work in the past. But Polly and I plan to try and uplift the work, and by investing our money in a first-rate business, we will try to create a real profession out of what is merely a paint-brush and a tack-hammer job, nowadays.”
Eleanor glanced about to make sure her friends were not within hearing of the remarks she had just made to her new acquaintance. The expression on the lady’s face, as the young aspirant for a new ideal explained her plans, sufficed Eleanor for the story she had just told.
“And what did you say your name was, dearie?” asked the lady, finally.
“Eleanor Maynard—of the Chicago Maynards, you know.”
“Yes, yes, I know of them,” replied the lady, glibly. “I am Mrs. Ebeneezer Alexander, of Denver. P’raps you’ve heard how Eben made a million in a night?”
Mrs. Alexander’s puckered forehead led Eleanor to understand what was expected of her in reply, so she fibbed as glibly as her companion had. “Oh yes! who has not heard of the Alexanders of Denver?”
The lady smoothed out her steamer-rug and smiled happily. Then the remembrance of this banker’s daughter going into a common trade, to better the conditions and reputation of the work, rose uppermost in her shallow mind again.