It was Angelica at her newest and best who walked across Fourth Street
the next morning. She had for a long time sternly withheld most of her
wages from her mother, who needed the money for vital necessities, and
had bought herself a decent outfit, to go with her new soul. She was
plainly dressed, but no longer with a trace of shabbiness. She wore a
neat dark suit, a black sailor hat, good boots and gloves. Her swagger
was gone, and so was her provocative and insolent glance; she had a
sobriety and decorum quite beyond reproach.
She saw the shop, and entered. It was a small private house, dilapidated
and moribund, fitted out with purple and white striped curtains at the
windows and a great sign-board over the front gate--a wooden peacock,
brilliantly colored, with ‘Fine Feathers’ painted in bold black letters
across it. The shop was what had once been a front parlour--a long,
narrow room with a marble mantelpiece and an ornate ceiling. It was
furnished now, with great audacity, solely by four kitchen chairs
painted white, with round purple cushions on them, a table on which were
strewn original designs for wraps and dresses done in crayons, and a
fine pair of black velvet portières concealing the back room. Four long
mirrors were set into the walls.
The owners were both poor and clever. They knew well that this childish
brightness would be thought artistic, original, and distinguished by the
greatly desirable bourgeoisie, and that the more sophisticated would be
amused. As for Angelica, she was impressed.
A tall young girl with fluffy red hair hastened in from the back room.
"Yes?" she asked, with non-committal amiability.
"Mrs. Geraldine sent me," said Angelica, "I’d like to see Miss Sillon,
please."
"Oh! I’m Miss Devery, but I’ll do. I’m the partner. I’ve heard about
you. Millinery, isn’t it?"
"Yes," said Angelica, confidently.
"Sit down, won’t you? We can talk it over a bit. Miss Sillon will be in
presently. You see, Miss Sillon and I just started this place six months
ago, but we’re doing so well that we feel justified in branching out a
bit. So we thought of a millinery department. We were speaking of it to
Mrs. Geraldine--she’s one of our oldest customers, you know--and she
said she knew just the person. She said you were a wonder at hats."
Angelica smiled a little. She was surprised and delighted by this pretty
red-haired girl with her naïve air and babyish voice--a lady, if ever
there was one, and yet so simple and friendly with Angelica. She wanted
greatly to work in that purple and white room with her.
"Now," said Miss Devery, "I’ll tell you what we can do. We’d let you
have both the windows, to display your hats; and that’s worth something.
Then we’d give you ten per cent of all the sales you make, and provide
the materials as well. We have lots of scraps and odds and ends; so
you’d be under no expense at all."
"But I’d have to have a salary to start with."
Miss Devery bit her lip doubtfully.
"Well, you see," she said candidly, "we’re rather short of cash. We’ve
made quite a bit, but after we’ve paid our living expenses we turn it
all back into the business. We’re growing fast, and if you come in with
us now you’ll really have a splendid chance. We have a perfectly fine
connection, you know--some of the very nicest people."
"But----” began Angelica, and stopped short. "I’d like to think it
over," she said. "How long can I take?"
"Why, a week, if you wish; but I hope you’ll come. You’re just the sort
of girl we want. We don’t commercialize the thing. We want to keep it
_nice_."
Angelica smiled again with a dreary sort of triumph. So she had fooled
one of the nice ones, anyway!
"Of course," went on Miss Devery, "if you’d rather, you could provide a
little capital and your own materials, and we’d let you right in with
us. Miss Sillon would show you the books and so on."
Angelica had risen. She could see her own reflection in one of the long
mirrors, and she could not help feeling that she really looked more of a
lady than the girl who actually was one.
"I’ll let you know," she said, carefully. She was fearfully tempted to
try, just for once, to talk as they did. "It’s awfully attractive," she
said. "I’d love to go into it with you; but I want to talk it over with
mother."
It succeeded! Miss Devery noticed nothing at all strange in her tone or
her words.
"Telephone just as soon as you decide, won’t you?" she said.