Soon Thorpe began to understand the scheme.  With an eye for colour and a swiftness of touch that was almost incredible, unsympathetic blouses were changed into daring yet dainty “confections.”  As fast as the girls finished draping the sashes and pinning on fantastically knotted ties of contrasted colours, they hung up the most attractive of their creations on lines above the counters which had been meagrely furnished forth with a few stringy, fringed sashes.  While some girls worked like demons in transforming “stock,” others arranged it on the lines and counters.  Complete “Pavlovas” only were displayed in prominent places.  Such things as could not be ready in time for the sale opening were grouped as prettily as possible, according to colour schemes, on the two less conspicuous of the four counters—­those which faced away from the more frequently occupied avenues of approach.

This was doubtless Miss Stein’s experienced contribution to the plan of battle; but, clever saleswoman as she was, when brain and heart were cool, Thorpe realized that all credit for originating the scheme should be given to the new girl.  “She’s a live wire,” he said to himself, though his deepest sympathies were for Miss Stein.  And he saw the “smartness” of Mr. Meggison in “spotting” No. 2884 for this place.

Meggison was, of course, “onto” the situation, for the whole secret of the man’s sudden rise lay in his capacity for knowing and keeping track of every current and undercurrent of life in each department.  With Miss Stein at their head, her five assistants would not put the energy of one into disposing of the hated stock, therefore Meggison had sent an “extra.”  He had chosen a new girl because she would not “take sides,” and a girl who looked as if she might hold her own against odds, because she would need all her “ginger” if she were to “make good.”  Besides Thorpe said to himself, Meggison might have his eye upon her, perhaps, as something out of the common run of extras merely hired for the holidays and intend to test her.

Somehow all the department managers and floorwalkers and head salesmen smiled dryly when they thought of Meggison (who had lately been promoted) in connection with any girl.  They seldom put into words what lay behind the smile, for you never knew who might be a spy—­a “sneak” or a “quiz.”  But all the men knew his one laughable weakness, and would rather get hold of a “sample” of it than be treated to a champagne dinner at the Waldorf.

Long before half-past ten women who wanted blouses and had seen the newspaper advertisements of the two-hour bargain sale began to inquire where it would be held.  Thorpe was constantly obliged to direct them, and watching them group where they could see the decorations of the square, his ears were sharpened for comments.

The quick minds of American women soon caught the idea which the colour arrangement conveyed.  “Why, it’s like the things the Russian dancers wear!” said one.