It was rather cold waiting outside, and, if the truth must be told, our little girl felt just a trifle homesick among so many strangers, for as yet she had not seen a familiar face, and something seemed to rise in her throat that she found hard to swallow; but just as she felt that she must have a good cry, and at the same time resolved that she wouldn't, the great steam-whistle shrieked, the bell in the tower rang, the gates opened from the inside, the gathered crowd rushed in, and all along the road might be seen flying figures of men, women, boys, and girls, hurrying to be in their places at the commencement of work and thus avoid the fine imposed upon stragglers. There was a pause of a few moments in the paved inside court while the inner doors of the great brick building were opened, and then the incoming crowd entering in various directions, scattered among the different corridors and left the "new girl" standing alone and bewildered at the entrance.
In front of her stretched a long, narrow hall, clean and fresh (Squantown Paper Mills were new and built after the most approved models), with doors opening from it at intervals on both sides. Some of these doors were open and some were shut; into some the work-people were constantly disappearing, as though the doors were mouths that opened suddenly and swallowed them up, and into some of the open ones Katie peeped timidly and turned back disconsolately as she discovered that they only afforded entrance to similar corridors, pierced by similar rows of doors.
At length the last straggler had entered, gone his way, and disappeared, and dead silence reigned. Katie felt as though she were alone in the universe, and almost wondered if she were to be left there forever, when a short, sharp, deafening whistle echoed through the hall, and at the same instant the great building vibrated from top to bottom, the roar of machinery swallowed up the silence, and the day's work began.
Immediately afterward a side door, close to where our little girl was standing, opened, and out of it came the foreman of the mill, who had been up to this moment in the office, receiving his orders for the day.
"Hallo, you!" he said crossly, seeing a girl standing idle in the hall; "why don't you go about your business? Go to work if you belong here; go home if you don't! No idlers or beggars allowed here, so close to the office door, too. Come, run away quickly."
"If you please, Mr. Thornton, I've come to work in the mill, in the rag-room, but I don't know which way to go."
"Oh!" said the foreman, "you're a new hand, eh? Rather a small one. It seems to me Mr. Mountjoy will end by having a nursery rather than a mill, but he knows his own business best, I suppose. New hands are not in my department, however. Mr. James," he called, reopening the office door and putting his head in again, "here's some work for you."
The "new hand" expected now to have an interview with the awful Mr. Mountjoy, Miss Etta's father, of whom she had heard so much, but had never yet seen, and began to tremble a little in anticipation. But, instead, a rosy-faced, light-haired young man appeared, to whom the foreman made a slight bow, and then went away. This was Mr. James Mountjoy, Miss Etta's brother, and the only son of the proprietor of the mill. Katie had heard her brothers, who were in his Sunday-school class, talk about him, but had never seen him before.
"Your name, little girl," he said pleasantly, as he ushered her into the office.
"Katie Robertson, sir. Mr. Sanderson"—