Miss Boardman, a woman of forty, short, plump and brisk in manner and speech, surveyed Grace with full appreciation, remarking that Miss Kirby had covered all the details.
“We’ll be ready for you Monday morning,” she said. Then she directed Irene’s attention to a lady who had, she explained, inspected all the garments in the shop and still lingered, a prey to uncertainty. “Miss Flagg doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere with that woman. It’s a Mrs. Bascomb from up in the state somewhere—Muncie or Anderson, or maybe Delphi. She’s a new customer and the fussiest person I ever saw. Maybe you can help Miss Flagg, Miss Kirby, but be careful not to rattle her. Very glad to know you, Miss Durland. You will begin at twelve fifty; Miss Kirby will explain about the bonuses and other little things.”
“Watch me work,” said Irene, her eyes upon Miss Flagg’s customer. “You can sit right here.”
Without taking off her coat and hat Irene walked toward the customer and clerk who were evidently in a hopeless deadlock. Grace saw the slight gesture with which Irene signalled to Miss Flagg. The import of the signal was evidently that Miss Flagg was to continue her attentions to the lady from Muncie, Anderson or Delphi while Irene idly examined the garments heaped on a table, with which Miss Flagg had been tempting her difficult shopper. Irene picked out a coat, held it at arm’s length, and slipped it on. Walking to a glass she passed back and forth the better to observe the effect of the garment upon her own person.
Miss Flagg’s customer became interested, watching Irene enviously, and the moment the girl divested herself of the garment she took it up. The lady from Muncie, Anderson or Delphi exchanged a few words with Irene; and again Irene put on the coat. Irene was soon discussing with her the merits of other raiment which Miss Flagg produced from the show cabinets. Grace watched intently, hearing nothing of the talk of the trio, but interpreting the pantomime. Irene had evidently assumed the role of adviser in the delicate matter of the lady’s choice. Presently she took off her hat, disclosing the fact that she was a member of the selling staff of the establishment. Two gowns having been added to the wrap and the lady from the more northern provinces having been escorted to the fitting room, Irene returned to Grace.
“Six hundred dollars worth,” she said, flicking a raveling from her sleeve. “I’ll stay on the job till she’s given her shipping order. Miss Flagg is one of our best saleswomen; but she just didn’t hit it off with that woman. They were both tired and irritating each other. If I’d butted in and taken her away from Miss Flagg that would have spoiled everything. I saved the day by pretending I wasn’t interested in her at all; but now she knows I belong here and she wants me to come back to the fitting room and make sure her things are all right. All she needed was a little coaxing and the right kind of flattery. You’d better not wait unless you want to watch the show a while. There’s a convention of women’s clubs in town and we’re likely to be rushed this afternoon.”
“I’ll run along,” said Grace. “And thank you ever so much.”
On her way to the elevator she passed a clerk who was patiently answering the questions of a captious customer as to the merits of a garment.
“I don’t know about this,” said the woman pecking at the silk lining in the sleeve; “it looks cheap.”
“What’s the difference, lady,” exclaimed the girl, “nobody’s going to notice the lining.”