Whether the door-keeper was away, or busy, or sick, or careless, or whether the head-waiter at the dining-room was so tall that he couldn't see so short a beggar, or whether the clerk at the desk was so noisy that he couldn't hear so still a beggar, or however it was, Mary Elizabeth did get in; by the door-keeper, past the head-waiter, under the shadow of the clerk, over the smooth, slippery marble floor the child crept on.
She came to the office door and stood still. She looked around her with wide eyes. She had never seen a place like that. Lights flashed over it, many and bright. Gentlemen sat in it smoking and reading. They were all warm. Not one of them looked as if he had had no dinner and no breakfast and no supper.
"How many extry suppers," thought the little girl, "it must ha' taken to feed 'em all. I guess maybe there'll be one for me in here."
Mary Elizabeth stood in the middle of it, in her pink calico dress and red plaid shawl. The shawl was tied over her head and about her neck with a ragged tippet. Her bare feet showed in the old rubbers. She began to shuffle about the room, holding out one purple little hand.
One or two of the gentlemen laughed; some frowned; more did nothing at all; most did not notice, or did not seem to notice, the child. One said: "What's the matter here?"
Mary Elizabeth shuffled on. She went from one to the other, less timidly; a kind of desperation had taken possession of her. The odours from the dining-room came in, of strong, hot coffee, and strange roast meats. Mary Elizabeth thought of Jo.
It seemed to her she was so hungry that, if she could not get a supper, she should jump up and run and rush about and snatch something and steal like Jo. She held out her hand, but only said: "I'm hungry!"
A gentleman called her. He was the gentleman who had asked: "What's the matter here?" He called her in behind his daily paper which was big enough to hide three of Mary Elizabeth, and when he saw that nobody was looking he gave her a five-cent piece in a hurry, as if he had committed a sin, and said quickly: "There, there, child! go now, go!"
Then he began to read his newspaper quite hard and fast and to look severe, as one does who never gives anything to beggars, as a matter of principle.
But nobody else gave anything to Mary Elizabeth. She shuffled from one to another, hopelessly. Every gentleman shook his head. One called for a waiter to put her out. This frightened her and she stood still.