“Such a stupid day!” she yawned toward its close. “Not a person of importance has even passed our counter. I’ve sold about a dollar’s worth of goods to-day. How much have you done?”
“Hardly that,” said Marion, smiling. “It has all been spools of cotton and darning needles. It has rained, you know, all day.”
The next morning’s sun shone brightly, and the large store was thronged early in the day with shoppers. Both Marion and Nellie were busy, the latter not much pleasanter than she had been the day before; it all seemed such trivial work to her.
“Are you sure you are not mistaken in the name?” one of the chiefs was saying, in a perplexed tone, to a lady who stood near Marion’s counter. “We have but one clerk of that name, and she is the youngest in the store.”
“This one is quite young, and she sells spool cotton,” said the lady, catching Marion’s eye and smiling a recognition. She had laid aside the long gossamer, and was carefully dressed. “I have a fancy to be waited on by her.”
“Marion,” said the chief, turning to her, “this lady wants to look at the light trimming silks; do you know anything about them?”
“Yes, sir,” said Marion promptly; “I know the shades and prices.”
“I thought so,” the lady said, and Marion moved down the archway at her side.
“I have a fancy that you can match silks,” the lady said; “at least I think you will patiently try. A girl who could do her best on a rainy day for a spool of cotton, can be depended upon for silk, I believe.”
From the silk department they went to the glove counter, and from there to the millinery, in each of which departments the young girl with wide-open eyes and deft fingers and careful taste gave satisfaction. “You ought to be in this room,” said the head milliner, smiling on her as she saw her select the right shade of velvet. “Where do you belong?” She laughed when told, and said that the spool-cotton department was fortunate.