“I’ve already decided to do some studying,” said Grace, who at the moment didn’t feel the need of leaning on anything. She was relieved that her mother, preoccupied with the club meeting, had so lightly passed over the matter of her engagement at Shipley’s.
“If I’m not back at five-thirty, put on that pot-roast,” said Mrs. Durland from the door. “It’s all fixed in the ice-box. And if that collector comes about the coal bill tell him I’ll call at the office the next time I’m down town. That last load we had was full of slate and I’m not going to pay the bill till they make it right.”
CHAPTER TWO
I
“I mustn’t seem to be too much interested in you,” said Irene when Grace reported for duty at Shipley’s on Monday morning. “I can’t play favorites and it wouldn’t do to make the other girls jealous. The first few days everything will seem strange but all you have to do is to stand around and keep your eyes open. Be nice to everybody—that’s the card to play. One girl in a department can make all the rest uncomfortable. Miss Boardman’s a little sharp sometimes—but never talk back! She knows her business and prides herself on keeping away ahead of her quota of sales. The management is strong for esprit de corps and there’s a social club that’s supposed to promote that sort of thing. There’ll be a few dances during the winter and a theatre party and a few little things like that. You won’t mind them. They’re really good fun.”
Grace was number eighteen. Her investiture with a number was the only real shock she experienced in taking her place in Shipley’s. One of her new associates who was instructing her in the routine, which began with inspection of the stock, tightening of buttons, the repair of minor damages incurred in the handling of garments, addressed her casually as “Eighteen” as though that had been Grace’s name bestowed in baptism. For an instant Grace resented her numerical designation; it was almost as though she had been robbed of her identity. Miss Boardman had given her a quick looking over to satisfy herself that the new employee met the store’s requirements as to raiment. She nodded her approval of the frock of dark taffeta which Grace had worn to simple afternoon affairs at college and told her to watch the other girls and lend a hand where she could.
Miss Boardman was beyond question a person of strong executive talent. Though burdened with much desk work as the head of the department, nothing escaped her watchful eye on the floor confided to her care. By eleven o’clock the ready-to-wear presented a scene of greatest animation. The day was fine and a throng of out-of-town customers, lured by double page advertisements of fall apparel in the newspapers, were attacking the department in dauntless battalions. Grace was constantly on the alert, keeping the much-examined stock in order, conducting customers to the trying-on room, and otherwise making herself useful to the experienced clerks.
A spectacled old lady fortified with a handbag appeared and surveyed the scene of confusion with dismay.
“Eighteen, see what that lady wants,” said Miss Boardman as she hurried by.
“What is it, please, that I can show you?” asked Grace, feeling her heart thump as she realized that she had accosted her first customer. She smiled encouragingly and the old lady returned the smile.