Sherry bowed and said she was twenty years old, that her home was in Buford, Massachusetts, that she had never been in service and had no references.
“No references!” Mrs. Groves repeated, rather severely, and Sherry replied: “None except what mother might give you. I have never worked out, but have done a good deal at home.”
“What can you do?”
“All that is required of a waitress, I think,” Sherry said. “You can try me, and if I do not suit you can dismiss me.”
“Are you willing to wear a cap?” was Mrs. Groves’ next question.
Two or three applicants for the place had refused caps and been promptly dismissed by Mrs. Groves, who looked curiously at Sherry, waiting for her answer.
“Why, yes, I’ll wear a cap if you wish it and think I’ll do my work any better.”
“It isn’t that,” Mrs. Groves said. “It is not a matter of work. It is a badge,—a sign,—a distinction——”
“Yes, I know,” Sherry replied. “I know what the cap means. I’ll wear it,” and she laughed inwardly as she saw herself in a cap waiting upon a table and imagined Katy’s indignation when she heard of it.
Something of the laugh showed in her eyes, and Mrs. Groves saw it and was puzzled. This was no ordinary girl seeking a situation, and she might make trouble with that high head and that look in her eyes which she could not fathom. But she must begin to make a choice. Alex. had said to her, “Get nice-looking girls, not low-down truck. You know I want everything first-class.” Sherry certainly was first-class and nice looking and not “low-down truck,” and Mrs. Groves decided to take her on trial. “It is settled then, and you will be at Maplehurst the last week in June, where I shall meet you and the other girls and break you in,” she said, after a little further questioning, which elicited nothing from Sherry with regard to Mrs. Pledger, or her father having been a clergyman and her family one of the best in Buford, three points upon which Katy had laid great stress.