A CUSTOMER.
It was really very interesting to be inside the counter instead of
outside, and in a position to examine everything carefully without any
interference. On the rare occasions when Madge, Betty, and John went
shopping, it always seemed to them as if no sooner had they caught a
glimpse of some especially fascinating book, picture, or toy, than they
were instantly hauled away to one of those dull linen-draper's
establishments in which grown-up people so mysteriously delight to
linger. As for examining anything closely, that was quite out of the
question when they went shopping with Miss Thompson. Ever since the
time when Betty had knocked two china ornaments off a shelf and broken
them to pieces while stretching out her hand to pick up a pepper-pot in
the shape of an owl, there had been a strict rule that the children
should touch nothing in shops. It was a dreadfully dull rule, because,
of course, nobody can look at things comfortably from a yard off and
without handling them at all. The prettiest doll loses most of its
interest if one cannot count how many petticoats there are under its
dress, and examine how much of its neck is made of wax, and where the
stuffing begins. And what can be duller than a mechanical mouse,
unless one can wind it up to run on the floor?
Madge decided at once that under such very peculiar circumstances as
the present she need not keep to Miss Thompson's rule. After all it
would be simply ridiculous to be standing inside the counter and left
in charge of the shop without even daring to look at the things she was
supposed to be selling. So, to provide herself as it were with a good
excuse, she took up a duster that she found lying on a chair, and began
carefully to rub over all the interesting things. The piles of
envelopes and writing-paper Madge did not consider required much
dusting, but pen-wipers in the shape of pigs, and work-boxes covered
with shells arranged in patterns, clearly called for a great deal of
attention.
Although Mrs. Winter was very particular about calling her shop a
stationer's, she really seemed to sell a little of everything. Madge
could see very well that it was just the kind of place where she would
be able to choose the sort of interesting things that Betty and John
expected. When she got her money back she would set seriously to work
to spend it at Mrs. Winter's before she met with any further
misadventures.
"It isn't many people who have first kept a shop and then bought things
out of it all in one afternoon, I should think," she said aloud, as she
vigorously dusted a mug adorned with coloured portraits of the royal
family.
At that moment there was a great push, and the door flew open.
"How quick you have been!" began Madge; then she stopped suddenly and
almost dropped the mug. It was not Mrs. Winter who came in, but a girl
a few years older than herself, evidently a customer.
"I want a fashion-paper," said the new-comer in a harsh voice. "One of
those with big coloured pictures of ladies in party-dresses and
ball-gowns. Something smart, you know. It's for myself--Miss Amelia
Block of Ivy Villa."
Madge felt that she was expected to know the name, and that Miss Amelia
Block was, in her own estimation at least, a very important person.
Perhaps she was in the habit of buying fashion-papers at this shop.
She probably had copied her hat, which was very large and profusely
trimmed with pink ribbon, out of one of the coloured pictures of which
she seemed so fond. It was a pity, Madge thought, that her face,
instead of being pretty and smiling, as the ladies are always
represented in fashion-papers, was ugly and cross-looking. And a pair
of very dirty gray kid gloves, with most of their buttons off, did not
improve her appearance by any means.
"I do hope she intends to buy some new gloves before she has any more
smart dresses or hats made," Madge could not help thinking.
In the meantime Miss Block was walking slowly round, or to speak more
correctly, turning on her heels, in the middle of the tiny shop. "You
don't seem to have much choice of fashion-papers here," she said rudely.
Madge did not reply, for the very excellent reason that she had not an
idea what fashion-papers Mrs. Winter kept.
"Haven't you anything more stylish than this?" inquired Miss Block,
picking up an illustrated magazine off the counter, and pointing
contemptuously to the picture of two ladies in their best dresses on
the cover. "I'm going to several parties and bazaars," she explained,
"and, of course, I don't want to look a regular dowdy."
"No, I see you don't," said Madge, staring at the enormous pink hat,
and then without intending it her eyes suddenly fell to the dirty gray
kid gloves.
Miss Block evidently thought that the little girl was intentionally
trying to make her feel uncomfortable. She became very red, and
hurriedly hid her hands in the folds of her skirt.
"If you will kindly give me what I asked for at once, instead of
standing there giggling at your betters, I'll be very much obliged to
you," she said, speaking even more disagreeably than before.
Madge was quite taken aback by this address. She never had the least
intention of behaving rudely, although it was true that in the bottom
of her heart she did not at all admire Miss Block's appearance. Still,
she had not meant to show her feelings so plainly. While she stood
speechless, wondering how she could best beg her customer's pardon,
Miss Block burst out into a storm of abuse that would better have
befitted a neglected street child than such a very smartly dressed
young woman.
"You just wait a bit till I see your grandmother!" she cried. "I'll
soon give her a bit of my mind for leaving such a vulgar chit of a
child in charge of her shop! It's my own fault I suppose for coming to
such a low place instead of going to the largest shops in the town,
which I might as well do. And in future I shall certainly go where I
shall be treated like a young lady! Mrs. Winter needn't look for my
patronage any more, I can tell you. She may think I am going to submit
quietly to being insulted by her pert little granddaughter, but she
will soon find out--"
"Please, I am not Mrs. Winter's grandchild, so you need not say that!"
interrupted Madge, suddenly recovering the use of her voice. Her anger
at this undeserved abuse almost got the better of her shyness. "I've
got nothing to do with Mrs. Winter," she continued. "But it's a nice
shop and I won't hear it abused. I dare say there are heaps of
fashion-papers in it, only I don't know where to find them--"
"If you aren't Mrs. Winter's grand-daughter, who are you then, I should
very much like to know?" said Miss Block, looking at Madge curiously
across the counter.
"That's no business of yours," replied Madge, with more truth than
politeness. In point of fact she did not wish this very disagreeable
young person to find out her name. It seemed as if the adventure might
end rather sillily, and Madge was not at all anxious for her part in it
to be widely known.
Miss Block did not appear daunted by the abrupt answer she had
received. On the contrary, she gave a curious smile when Madge
declined to tell her name, and nodded her head, repeating softly to
herself, "I thought so. Just as I thought."
"What did you think?" said Madge at last, feeling intolerably irritated
at her customer's mysterious words and manners.
"Well, it wouldn't require a very clever person to guess what you are!"
replied Miss Block triumphantly. She spoke as if she had just made
some great discovery that gave her infinite pleasure.
"You don't really know who I am, do you?" said Madge with considerable
anxiety.
"Well, I am generally considered as sharp as my neighbours, I believe!"
retorted Miss Block. "And I can make a pretty good guess! When I find
somebody in a shop who doesn't know where any of the things are kept,
although I see her pulling them all about as I come in; and when she
gets very frightened, and won't tell her name or how she got there, I
call that person a thief!"
"A thief! You think I am a thief!" cried Madge, almost more astonished
than offended by such an extraordinary accusation. "Why, Mrs. Winter
herself told me to stay in the shop while she went off to find the man
who--"
"Oh yes! A very fine story. I have heard of that kind of excuse
before!" interrupted Miss Block mockingly. "It's my belief you just
slipped in when poor old Mrs. Winter was out of the way for a minute,
and if I hadn't luckily caught you in the very act you would have been
off with your pockets crammed--"
"How can you say such things!" cried Madge. "Why, I have money to pay
for everything I want, only it's dropped down the grating into the
cellar of the next house, as I was just going to tell you. And while
Mrs. Winter went to get the key I was making up my mind what I would
buy presently. And as I have five shillings and sevenpence to spend
(it's not all mine exactly, but nearly the same thing), you certainly
need not say that I wasn't going to pay!"
"Now that's a very interesting story! So interesting that I'll give
you the chance of repeating it to a policeman, and we'll see what he
says to it," remarked Miss Block, at the same time moving towards the
street door as if to go out.
Madge could hardly believe her ears. A policeman being called to
examine her just as if she were really a thief! It seemed impossible,
but Miss Block, with a most unpleasant smile, was actually turning the
door-handle, when she was suddenly seized round the waist by two strong
arms.
"You sha'n't do it!" cried Madge hysterically. "You sha'n't do it, I
tell you!"
She was a tall, strong girl for her age, and having sprung on Miss
Block from behind and taken her quite by surprise, she had no
difficulty in dragging her across the little shop.
Miss Block uttered a series of frightened shrieks and tried to wrench
herself free, but though taller she was not nearly so active as Madge.
While struggling together the two girls pushed heavily against a door
at the back of the shop that led into Mrs. Winter's little
sitting-room. It burst open, and they both fell headlong on to a black
horse-hair sofa which occupied a prominent position in the room. Madge
recovered first from the shock of the fall, and darting back into the
shop slammed the door behind her, turning the key in the lock.