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The Portion of Labor Part 43

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"Look here, Ellen Brewster, this ain't true?" she stammered.

"Yes, grandma," answered Ellen. "I have thought it all over, and it is the only thing for me to do."

Her grandmother clutched her arm, and the girl felt as if she were in the grasp of another will, which was more conclusive than steel.

"You sha'n't!" she said, whispering, lest Andrew should hear, but with intense force.

"I've got to, grandma. We've got to have the money."



"The money," said the old woman, with an inflection of voice and a twist of her features indicative of the most superb scorn--"the money! I guess you ain't goin' to lose such a chance as that for money. I guess I've got two hundred and ten dollars a year income, and I'll give up a half of that, and Andrew can put a mortgage on the house, if that Tenny woman has got to be supported because her husband has run off and left her and her young one. You sha'n't go to work in a shop."

"I've got to, grandma," said Ellen.

The old woman looked at her. It was like a duel between two strong wills of an old race. "You sha'n't," she said.

"Yes, I shall, grandma."

Then the old woman turned upon her in a fury of rage.

"You're a Loud all over, Ellen Brewster," said she. "You 'ain't got a mite of Brewster about you. You 'ain't got any pride! You'd just as soon settle down and work in a shop as do anything else."

f.a.n.n.y pushed before her. "Look here, Mother Brewster," said she, "you can just stop! Ellen is my daughter, and you 'ain't any right to talk to her this way. I won't have it. If anybody is goin' to blame her, it's me."

"Who be you?" said Mrs. Zelotes, sniffing.

Then she looked at them both, at Ellen and at her mother.

"If you go an' do what you've planned," said she to Ellen, "an' if you uphold her in it," to f.a.n.n.y, "I've done with you."

"Good riddance," said f.a.n.n.y, coa.r.s.ely.

"I ain't goin' to forget that you said that," cried Mrs. Zelotes.

She held up her dress high in front and went out of the door. "I ain't comin' over here again, an' I'll thank you to stay at home,"

said she. Then she went away.

Soon after f.a.n.n.y heard Ellen in the dining-room setting the table for supper, and went out.

"Where did you get that money you paid the dressmaker with?" she asked, abruptly.

"I borrowed it of Abby," replied Ellen.

"Then she knows?"

"Yes."

f.a.n.n.y continued to look at Ellen with the look of one who is settling down with resignation under some knife of agony.

"Well," said she, "there's no need to talk any more about it before your father. Now I guess you had better toast him some bread for his supper."

"Yes, I will," replied Ellen. She looked at her mother pitifully, and yet with that firmness which had seemed to suddenly develop in her. "You know it is the best thing for me to do, mother?" she said, and although she put it in the form of a question, the statement was commanding in its a.s.sertiveness.

"When are you--goin' to work?" asked f.a.n.n.y.

"Next Monday," replied Ellen.

Chapter x.x.xV

When Ellen had gone to the factory to apply for work neither of the Lloyds were in the office, only a girl at the desk, whom she knew slightly. Ellen had hesitated a little as she approached the girl, who looked around with a friendly smile.

"I want to see--" Ellen began, then she stopped, for she did not exactly know for whom she should ask. The girl, who was blond and trim, clad coquettishly in a blue shirt-waist and a duck skirt, with a large, cheap rhinestone pin confining the loop of her yellow braids, looked at her in some bewilderment. She had heard of Ellen's good-fortune, and knew she was to be sent to Va.s.sar by Cynthia Lennox. She did not dream that she had come to ask for employment.

"You want to see Mr. Lloyd?" she asked.

"Oh no!" replied Ellen.

"Mr. Robert Lloyd?" The girl, whose name was Nellie Stone, laughed a little meaningly as she said that.

Ellen blushed. "No," she said. "I think I want to see the foreman."

"Which foreman?"

"I don't know," replied Ellen. "I want to get work if I can. I don't know which foreman I ought to see."

"To get work?" repeated the girl, with a subtle change in her manner.

"Yes," said Ellen. She could hear her heart beat, but she looked at the other girl's pretty, common face with the most perfect calmness.

"Mr. Flynn is the one you want to see, then," said the girl. "You know Ed Flynn, don't you?"

"A little," replied Ellen. He had been a big boy when she entered the high-school, and had left the next spring.

"Well, he's the one you want," said Nellie Stone. Then she raised her voice to a shrill peal as a boy pa.s.sed the office door.

"Here, you, Jack," said she, "ask Mr. Flynn to come here a minute, will you?"

"He don't want to see you," replied the boy, who was small and spare, laden heavily with a great roll of wrapping paper borne bayonet fashion over his shoulder. His round, impish face grinned back at the girl at the desk.

"Quit your impudence," she returned, half laughing herself. "I don't want to see him; it is this young lady here; hurry up."

The boy gave a comprehensive glance at Ellen. "Guess he'll come," he called back.

Flynn appeared soon. He was handsome, well shaven and shorn, and he held himself smartly. He also dressed well in a business suit which would not have disgraced the Lloyds. His face lit up with astonishment and pleasure when he saw Ellen. He bowed and greeted her in a rich voice. He was of Irish descent but American born. Both his motions and his speech were adorned with flourishes of grace which betrayed his race. He placed a chair for Ellen with a sweep which would have been a credit to the stage. All his actions had a slight exaggeration as of fresco painting, which seemed to fit them for a stage rather than a room, and for an audience rather than chance spectators.

"No, thank you," replied Ellen. Then she went straight to the matter in hand. "I have called to see if I could get a job here?" she said.

She had been formulating her speech all the way thither. Her first impulse was to ask for employment, but she was sure as to the manner in which a girl would ordinarily couch such a request. So she asked for a job.

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The Portion of Labor Part 43 summary

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