If Miss Smith, the forewoman, had been in ignorance of the failure and death of Archibald Fowler, she would probably have read the announcement in Madame’s face as she watched her welcome the wife of his son.  There was nothing offensive, nothing unkind, nothing curt; but, in some subtle way, the difference was emphasized between the eccentric daughter-in-law of a millionaire and an inexperienced young woman who must work for her living.  For the welcome revealed at once to the observant eyes of Miss Smith the significant detail that Madame’s role had changed from the benefited to the benefactor.  And, as if this were not enough for one morning’s developments, it revealed also that Gabriella’s fictitious value as a saleswoman was beginning to decline; for Madame was disposed to scorn the sort of sensational advertisement which the newspapers had devoted of late to the unfortunate Fowlers.  At one moment there had been grave doubt in Madame’s mind as to whether or not she should employ young Mrs. Fowler in her respectable house; then, after a brief hesitation, she had shrewdly decided that ideas were worth something even when lacking the support of social position and financial security.  There were undoubtedly possibilities in Gabriella; and disgrace, Madame concluded cheerfully, could not take away either one’s natural talent or one’s aristocratic appearance.  That the girl had distinction, even rare distinction, Madame admitted while she nodded approvingly at the severe black cloth gown with its collar and cuffs of fine white crape.  The simple arrangement of her hair, which would have ruined many a pretty face, suited the ivory pallor of Gabriella’s features.  Mourning was becoming to her, Madame decided, and though she was not beautiful, she was unusually charming.

“She has few good points except her figure, and yet the whole is decidedly picturesque,” thought Madame as impersonally as if she were criticising a fashion plate.  “Very young men would hardly care for her—­for very young men demand fine complexions and straight noses—­but with older men who like an air, who admire grace, she would be taking, and women, yes, women would undoubtedly find her imposing.  But she is not the sort to have followers,” she concluded complacently.

“Shall I go to the workroom?” asked Gabriella in a businesslike voice when she had taken off her hat, “or do you wish me at the sale?”

Her soul shrank from the showrooms, but she had determined courageously that she would not allow her soul to interfere with her material purpose, and her purpose was to learn all that she could and to make herself indispensable to Madame.  Only by acquiring a thorough knowledge of the business and making herself indispensable could she hope to succeed.  And success was not merely desirable to her; it was vital.  It meant the difference between food and hunger for her children.

“Miss Smith will find something for you to do this morning,” replied Madame, politely, but without enthusiasm.  “If there is a rush later on in the millinery, I will send for you to help out.”