When Maggie Brady came in she looked weary and jaded, and the paint on her face made her more conspicuous than ever.
During a lull in the business Faith heard her speaking to Miss Fairbanks in a tone that showed plainly that she was very confidential with the buyer.
"Jim Denton took me to the theatre last night and we had an elegant supper after. It cost him a pile, I tell you, for I just laid myself out to be expensive. It's the only way I have of getting square with the firm. What the old man makes his son blows in; that's right, ain't it, Fairbanks?" she winked at the woman as she finished.
"Sure," replied Miss Fairbanks in a lower tone; "but look out for him, Mag, there's a new star in the heavens. I wouldn't trust Jim Denton around the corner, and you wouldn't either if you were wiser."
"Oh, I'm not afraid of that, if that's what you mean," said the girl. She nodded her head in Faith's direction, but did not deign to look at her.
"She's a beauty all right," was the buyer's reply, "and she doesn't have to improve on nature a little bit, eh, Maggie?"
"She won't keep that color long in this store," sneered Miss Brady. "She'll fade like all the rest of us, and it won't take long either."
"Miss Fairbanks," gasped Miss Jennings from behind the counter, "I can't stand up any longer. You will have to excuse me."
"Well, you do look sick, so I suppose you can go. But as it is only ten o'clock I shall have to call it a full day, Miss Jennings."
"Call it anything you like," whispered Miss Jennings hoarsely; "only let me lie down, on the floor or anywhere."