With a note of introduction to the superintendent clutched tightly
in her hand, Ida May reached New York City. She took barely time to
swallow a cup of coffee ere she hurried to the number indicated. Her
heart sunk within her as she looked up at the immense building; but
with a courage which should have met with a better reward, she took
the elevator, and soon found herself on the eighth floor, where the
superintendent's office was situated.
"He is not in," an attendant told her. "He left the city two days ago,
and is not expected to return for a fortnight."
Tears that she could not control sprung into Ida May's dark eyes.
"Oh, what shall I do?" cried the girl; "I want to see him so much!"
The attendant was moved to pity by her great distress.
"If you are looking for a position, or anything of that kind, perhaps I
could suggest something."
"Oh, yes, that is it, sir," exclaimed Ida May, looking up through her
tears--"that is my errand. I want to secure a position."
"Then it is the manager, instead of the superintendent, you will have
to apply to. I think he is in his office. Step this way, please."
He threw open a door to the right, and Ida May followed him into a
large room, in which were dozens of young girls bending over tables.
The deafening click! click! click! of the telegraph instruments drowned
every sound.
Some girls never raised their heads, as Ida May, following the
attendant, passed down the long aisle. Others, however, glanced at her,
at first casually, which deepened instantly into a gaze of curiosity
and intense interest, for they had never beheld a creature with such
superb beauty. Their hearts beat with envy.
"The manager will be sure to engage her," they whispered. "Her pretty
face will be sure to be a passport to favor. There used to be a time
when it was 'How much do you know about the business?' but now it is
'What kind of a face have you? If it's a pretty and dashing one, I'll
engage you.' An old or a homely girl doesn't stand any show whatever
nowadays."
All unconscious of these remarks, Ida May passed on. The attendant
threw open another door at the end of a large room, and she found
herself in a luxuriously furnished office. A young and exceedingly
handsome man sat at a desk writing. He glanced up angrily at the sound
of footsteps, and was about to make a sharp remark to the man, when he
caught sight of the beautiful young creature he was ushering into his
presence.
"Ah, sit down," he said, blandly; "I will attend to you in one moment."
The attendant had scarcely closed the door behind him ere the
manager--for such he proved to be--turned quickly about and faced the
young girl.
"What can I do for you?" he said in his blandest voice. He had taken
in at first glance the wondrous beauty of the young girl. It was
certainly the most exquisite face he had ever beheld, and a strange
gleam leaped into his eyes. He told himself that, from her appearance,
she had certainly come in search of a position. Ida May looked up into
the dark, handsome face. Instinctively she shrunk from him, but could
not tell why. Very timidly she stated her errand, the color on her
face deepening, as she could not help but notice the ardent glance of
admiration he bent upon her, and there was something in the bold glance
of his eyes that made her feel extremely uncomfortable.
In a falteringly voice Ida stated her errand, and what experience she
had had in her little village home. To her great delight and surprise,
he answered quickly:
"I think I will be able to make a place for you. It would be a pity to
send away such a pretty girl as you are."
Ida May drew back in alarm. She did not like the remark, nor the look
which accompanied it; but she dared not make an indignant reply.
"Where are you stopping?" he asked in the next breath.
"I have just reached the city, sir," she responded. "I came in search
of a position even before I found a place to stop."
"It is well you did so," he responded quickly. "I know of a place that
I think will suit you. The lady has no other boarders. You would be
company for her. I would make this observation here and now: the girls
we have here are a talkative set. Pay no attention to their remarks."
He wrote an address on a slip of paper, and handed it to the girl.
"I am very grateful, sir, for the interest you have taken in me, a poor
girl," she said, tremulously. "Shall I report to-day for work, sir?"
she asked. "I should like to commence as soon as possible."
"To-morrow will do," he answered.
With a heart full of thanks, she left the office.
Frank Garrick, the manager, looked after her with a smile that was not
pleasant to see.
"I have run across many a little beauty in my time," he muttered,
gazing after her, "but surely never such an exquisite little beauty as
this one."
The girls looked at one another, nodding grimly, when Ida May presented
herself for duty the next day.
"Didn't I tell you how it would be?" sneered one of the girls. "Our
handsome manager, Mr. Garrick, was captivated by the girl's beauty, as
I knew he would be, and engaged her, although he refused to take on,
only the day before, three girls whom I knew to be actually starving."
There was one girl who looked at Ida May with darkening eyes.
She bent over her task; but though the hours passed, the terrible look
never left her face.
"Nannie is jealous," more than one girl whispered to her neighbor. "You
see, she's head over heels in love with our manager. If he so much as
looks at any other girl that passes along, she sulks for a week. What
fun it would be to make her jealous. Oh, let's try, girls! Let's put up
a job on her. It would be such fun!"
"Not for the new-comer!" laughed another girl.
"Nannie would make it pretty hot for her here."
Little dreaming of the tempest they were stirring up, the girls
thoughtlessly planned their little joke. Their shouts of laughter would
have been turned into tears of pity could they have beheld the harvest
of woe that was to spring from it.
Nannie Rogers noticed that the beautiful new-comer was assigned to an
instrument at a table almost directly opposite the private office. This
inflamed the jealously of Nannie Rogers.
She noted how he watched her from the window of his office all the next
day.
More than one girl called Nannie Rogers' attention to this at noon-hour.
"You will have to look to your laurels, Nan," more than one declared,
banteringly. "You will find this Ida May a rival, I fear."
"Any girl had better be dead than attempt to be a rival of mine," she
answered.
There came a time when the girls remembered that remark all too
forcibly.
Ida May bent over her task, paying little attention to anything around
her. She was trying to forget her double sorrow, all that she had gone
through, and the death of her poor mother that had followed.