For awhile everything went as pleasantly as a marriage bell.  But one day a young colored lady, well-dressed and well-bred in her manner, entered the store.  It was an acquaintance which Iola had formed in the colored church which she attended.  Iola gave her a few words of cordial greeting, and spent a few moments chatting with her.  The attention of the girls who sold at the same counter was attracted, and their suspicion awakened.  Iola was a stranger in that city.  Who was she, and who were her people?  At last it was decided that one of the girls should act as a spy, and bring what information she could concerning Iola.

The spy was successful.  She found out that Iola was living in a good neighborhood, but that none of the neighbors knew her.  The man of the house was very fair, but there was an old woman whom Iola called “Grandma,” and she was unmistakably colored.  The story was sufficient.  If that were true, Iola must be colored, and she should be treated accordingly.

Without knowing the cause, Iola noticed a chill in the social atmosphere of the store, which communicated itself to the cash-boys, and they treated her so insolently that her situation became very uncomfortable.  She saw the proprietor, resigned her position, and asked for and obtained a letter of recommendation to another merchant who had advertised for a saleswoman.

In applying for the place, she took the precaution to inform her employer that she was colored.  It made no difference to him; but he said:—­

“Don’t say anything about it to the girls.  They might not be willing to work with you.”

Iola smiled, did not promise, and accepted the situation.  She entered upon her duties, and proved quite acceptable as a saleswoman.

One day, during an interval in business, the girls began to talk of their respective churches, and the question was put to Iola:—­

“Where do you go to church?”

“I go,” she replied, “to Rev. River’s church, corner of Eighth and L Streets.”

“Oh, no; you must be mistaken.  There is no church there except a colored one.”

“That is where I go.”

“Why do you go there?”

“Because I liked it when I came here, and joined it.”

“A member of a colored church?  What under heaven possessed you to do such a thing?”

“Because I wished to be with my own people.”

Here the interrogator stopped, and looked surprised and pained, and almost instinctively moved a little farther from her.  After the store was closed, the girls had an animated discussion, which resulted in the information being sent to Mr. Cohen that Iola was a colored girl, and that they protested against her being continued in his employ.  Mr. Cohen yielded to the pressure, and informed Iola that her services were no longer needed.

When Robert came home in the evening, he found that Iola had lost her situation, and was looking somewhat discouraged.