The Bread-winners | Page 3

of Andrea, sharpened by
criticising Raphael, could hardly have found a line to alter in her. The
dress of that year was scarcely more reticent in its revelations than the
first wet cloth with which a sculptor swathes his kneaded clay; and
pretty women walked in it with almost the same calm consciousness of
power which Phryne displayed before her judges. The girl who now

entered Farnham's library had thrown her shawl over one arm, because
the shawl was neither especially ornamental nor new, and she could not
afford to let it conceal her dress of which she was innocently proud; for
it represented not only her beautiful figure with few reserves, but also
her skill and taste and labor. She had cut the pattern out of an illustrated
newspaper, had fashioned and sewed it with her own hands; she knew
that it fitted her almost as well as her own skin; and although the
material was cheap and rather flimsy, the style was very nearly the
same as that worn the same day on the Boulevard of the Italians. Her
costume was completed by a pair of eyeglasses with steel rims, which
looked odd on her rosy young face.
"I didn't send in my name," she began with a hurried and nervous
utterance, which she was evidently trying to make easy and dashing.
"because you did not know me from Adam----I have been trying to see
you for some time," she continued.
"It has been my loss that you have not succeeded. Allow me to give
you a chair."
She flushed and seemed not at all comfortable. This grave young man
could not be laughing at her; of course not; she was good-looking and
had on a new dress; but she felt all her customary assurance leaving her,
and was annoyed. She tried to call up an easy and gay demeanor, but
the effort was not entirely successful. She said, "I called this
morning--it may surprise you to receive a visit from a young lady----"
"I am too much pleased to leave room for surprise."
She looked sharply at him to see if she were being derided, but through
her glasses she perceived no derision in his smile. He was saying to
himself, "This is a very beautiful girl who wants to beg or to borrow. I
wonder whether it is for herself or for some 'Committee'? The longer
she talks the more I shall have to give. But I do not believe she is
near-sighted."
She plucked up her courage and said:

"My name is Miss Maud Matchin."
Farnham bowed, and rejoined:
"My name is----"
She laughed outright, and said:
"I know well enough what your name is, or why should I have come
here? Everybody knows the elegant Mr. Farnham."
The smile faded from his face. "She is more ill-bred than I suspected,"
he thought; "we will condense this interview."
He made no reply to her compliment, but looked steadily at her,
waiting to hear what she wanted, and thinking it was a pity she was so
vulgar, for she looked like the huntress Diana.
Her eyes fell under his glance, which was not at all reassuring. She said
in almost a humble tone:
"I have come to ask a great favor of you. I am in a good deal of
trouble."
"Let us see what it is, and what we can do," said Farnham, and there
was no longer any banter in his voice.
She looked up with sudden pleasure, and her glasses fell from her eyes.
She did not replace them, but, clasping her hands tightly together,
exclaimed:
"Oh, sir, if you can do anything for me----But I don't want to make you
think----" She paused in evident confusion, and Farnham kindly
interposed.
"What I may think is not of any consequence just now. What is it you
want, and how can I be of service to you?"
"Oh, it is a long story, and I thought it was so easy to tell, and I find it

isn't easy a bit. I want to do something--to help my parents--I mean
they do not need any help--but they can't help me. I have tried lots of
things." She was now stammering and blushing in a way that made her
hate herself mortally, and the innocent man in front of her tenfold more,
but she pushed on manfully and concluded, "I thought may be you
could help me get something I would like."
"What would you like?"
"Most anything. I am a graduate of the high school. I write a good hand,
but I don't like figures well enough to clerk. I hear there are plenty of
good places in Washington."
"I could do nothing for you if there were. But you are wrong: there are
no good places in