“They told me to be back in half an hour,” she said, “but I don’t mind a bit. It’s been nice all morning. This is the first time in my life I ever did have all the children to talk to that I wanted. And the sweet toys! Think of me gadding around like this, and enjoying it! I swear to goodness I don’t know myself. And what do you think I’m going to do if either of us gets a raise? I’m going to buy you an overcoat!”
Father felt that he didn’t know her, either. She did most of the talking at lunch, and hurried cheerfully back to her job, while Father plodded wearily away, speculating as to whether he could keep bustling on tired, stinging feet till six, like the younger holiday help with whom he was in competition.
He couldn’t seem to please the assistant buyer of the department at all, that afternoon, though in his eager way he tried to be the perfect salesman.
On Saturday morning there was a little note for him in which the superintendent was obsequiously Father’s servant, and humbly informed Father that his services wouldn’t be needed after that day. Would he, if it was quite convenient, call for his pay the following Tuesday, and not fail to turn in his locker-key before leaving the establishment?
The assistant buyer came around and unhappily told Father that they were letting him go because the department was overstocked with younger, liver men. “I’m mighty sorry, and I wish you good luck,” he said, with flash of the real man under the smooth, steely exterior.
Father scarcely heard him, though he smiled faintly. He read the note many times as he stumbled home. But he couldn’t get himself to show it to Mother till Sunday afternoon, so proud was she of helping him and proving herself a business woman—succeeding in a nine-dollar job while Father, who had once been worth twenty-two good dollars a week, hadn’t been able to keep an eight-dollar job. Being quite human, Father felt a scornful envy of her for a minute, when she repeated all the pleasant things that had been said to her. But she was so frank, so touchingly happy, that he could not long harden his heart.
When he told her of his ill-fortune she put her hand to her breast and looked desperately afraid. It was only with a dry gasp that she could say: “Never mind, Seth, you’ll find something else. I’m glad you don’t have to handle all those silly card-cases and all. And so—so—oh, I do hope you find something.”
“You won’t think I’m entirely a failure?”
“I won’t have you use that word! Don’t I know—haven’t I seen you for years? Why, I depend on you like—it sounds like a honeymoon, but you’re just about my religion, Seth.”
But she went to bed very early, to be absolutely certain of being on time at Regalberg’s Monday morning.