during the patient years of serving her mother and her father.
Jennie eyed her sharply and drew a breath of relief that there was no sign of rebellion on the sweet sad face.
Tom came in with his boisterous good-morning and appeared to have forgotten all about the little outbreak of the night before. He ate his breakfast hastily and hurried off to find Matthews.
Marion washed the breakfast dishes as usual. Jennie was impatient with her that she did not talk. It seemed sullen and ugly of her. Jennie wanted to bubble over about the prospect of the farm, and was annoyed that she could not. She did not understand Marion's attitude of quiet resignation. Jennie had never cared for red brick with marble trimmings. She had lived in a suburb before she was married, and had ideas about a single house and a Dutch hall; but a Vermont farmhouse might have possibilities of spaciousness beyond even a Dutch hall.
Tom came home at noon in high glee. Matthews had paid a hundred dollars down to bind the bargain. He was to pay the remainder in ten days, and wanted possession at the end of the month.
Marion said nothing, but wore a white, pained look as if she had braced herself to receive this blow and would not wince. Jennie and Tom stole furtive glances at her, but made no reference to her words of the evening before.
Marion ate but little lunch and hurried through the dishes afterward. Jennie watched her uncertainly. At last she said:
"Marion, what if you and I take down the curtains and wash them this afternoon. We can't begin too soon to get packed. A month isn't long."
"I'm sorry," said Marion gently, as she washed her hands and hung up her apron, "but I have to go out this afternoon. I'll try to help to-morrow morning."
Then she went up to her room leaving Jennie vexed and mystified and worried. What in the world could Marion have to go out for? Why did she have to be so terribly close mouthed? She was acting very strange indeed, Jennie decided. Maybe she was going to make trouble after all. Tom was always so cocksure about everything. He ought to have had a good talk with his sister and let her get her grouch out of her system. This silent gentleness was dangerous.
She watched behind the parlor curtains and saw Marion signal a trolley going down town, and went back to her work with uneasiness. She wished Tom would come back. He ought to know Marion had gone out.
Half an hour later Marion entered the imposing building of a great trust company down in the city and timidly approached the clerk behind the steel-grated window, frightened at her own temerity, so that her voice fluttered as she asked for the president of the great concern.
"Mr. Radnor is very busy to-day," said the brusque young clerk eyeing her doubtfully, noting her shyness and shabbiness, and growing haughtier. "He has a meeting of the board of directors at three o'clock and it is quarter to three now. I doubt if he can see you this afternoon."
"Oh," said Marion with a quick little movement of her hand to her fluttering throat, "Oh, I won't keep him but a moment. If you would just tell him my name, and ask him if I can see him just for a word—it won't take long."
The clerk hesitated, but wrote down her name and gave it to a messenger, who departed through a great mahogany door into the inner regions. Marion stood palpitating. Now, if he shouldn't be able to see her to-day she would have to come again, and there was so little time! Each day counted for a lot. And when Jennie got started at tearing up the house it would be next to impossible to get away without explaining, and that would be fatal to her intentions. She felt her only chance for success was to keep her plans to herself until they had matured. Tom would surely find some way to frustrate them unless she did.
But suddenly the messenger returned through the heavy door, and nodded to the clerk, who turned with a more respectful look, and informed Marion that Mr. Radnor would see her for a moment if she would be brief.
Now it happened that the president of the trust company, who was also superintendent of Marion's Sunday School, and senior elder in the church to which she belonged, had known and respected Marion's father for a good many years, and was also a kindly soul. So when Marion, fairly frightened out of her senses, to think that she had dared to come into such an august presence, was presently ushered into his inner sanctum, he greeted her with great cordiality and seated her in one of his big leather chairs.
"Good afternoon, Miss Marion," he said beaming pleasantly upon her. He prided himself that he knew the entire Sunday School by name, and never made a mistake, although there were some fifteen hundred on the roll. "I am glad to see you, although I have but a few minutes to spare before a most important meeting. Is there anything that I can do for you? Your father was a man whom I greatly honored, and whose friendship I prized beyond most. He was a man of God if there ever was one."
Marion looked up with a sudden light in her eyes and forgot her fright.
"And he had a great admiration for you, Mr. Radnor," she said shyly. "He once said he would rather ask a favor of you than of any man he knew, because he said you treated a poor man as if he was a prince."
"Well, he was a prince if there ever was one," said the bank president heartily, "and I feel honored that he so honored me. Now, if there is any service I can render his daughter I shall be doubly pleased."
"Well," said Marion, with a sudden return of her embarrassment, "I want to get a position as a saleswoman in a department store. Could you give me a letter of introduction somewhere to someone you know? I think I could be a salesgirl. It seems to me the work would be easy to learn, and I would try with all my ability to do credit to whatever recommendation you feel you can give me."
"Why, surely," beamed Mr. Radnor heartily.
He delighted to do favors to members of his Sunday School, and it happened that this request was one that he was peculiarly able to grant just at that time. One of the chiefs in a great department store was under heavy obligation to him. He felt reasonably sure that anything he asked of the man at that time would be readily granted. Moreover, he was one who delighted to please others, especially when it cost him little trouble. He turned to bis telephone and called up his man.
Marion's cheeks glowed with pleasure as she listened to the one-sided conversation and heard the glowing praise of her father's sterling character and the kindly words about herself. In wonder she listened, and knew the gate of her desire had swung wide at the magic touch of this great man's word.
It was just one minute of three when the bank president hung up the receiver and turned to Marion graciously smiling.
"It is all right, Miss Marion," he said in the same tone he used to announce the annual Sunday School picnic, "you can have a position as soon as you are ready to take it, I think. You'll need to answer a few questions, of course, but they are mere formalities. Mr. Chapman has promised to give you something worth while. You had better go right over and make out the application blanks while it ie fresh in his mind. He said he could see you in half an hour. You are to come to the second-floor office and inquire for Mr. Chapman. Here, I'll give you my card"; and he hastily wrote across the top of his card, "Introducing Miss Marion Warren," and handed it to her.
"Don't think of thanking me. No trouble whatever. I'm only too glad that it was possible for me to do it. It is fortunate that you caught me just at this time as I am usually out of the office before this hour. Now I must go to my appointment. Sorry I can't visit with you a few minutes. I hope you'll have no trouble in securing just what you want at a good salary. He promised me he would do his best for you financially for a start and give you opportunity to rise. Come back if you have any trouble but I don't think you will. Good-afternoon. So glad you came."
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