After that the manager hated her.  He always hated girls who resisted him.  He hated her, and wanted to do her harm.  But he fairly persecuted her to receive his attentions.  He was a young fellow, extremely young to be occupying so responsible a position.  He undoubtedly had business ability.  He showed it in his management of Elizabeth.  The girl’s life became a torment to her.  In proportion as she appeared to be the manager’s favorite the other girls became jealous of her.  They taunted her with the manager’s attentions on every possible occasion.  When they found anything wrong, they charged it upon her; and so she was kept constantly going to the manager, which was perhaps just what he wanted.

She grew paler and paler, and more and more desperate.  She had run away from one man; she had run away from a woman; but here was a man from whom she could not run away unless she gave up her position.  If it had not been for her grandmother, she would have done so at once; but, if she gave up her position, she would be thrown upon her grandmother for support, and that must not be.  She understood from the family talk that they were having just as much as they could do already to make both ends meet and keep the all-important god of Fashion satisfied.  This god of Fashion had come to seem to Elizabeth an enemy of the living God.  It seemed to occupy all people’s thoughts, and everything else had to be sacrificed to meet its demands.

She had broached the subject of school one evening soon after she arrived, but was completely squelched by her aunt and cousin.

“You’re too old!” sneered Lizzie.  “School is for children.”

“Lizzie went through grammar school, and we talked about high for her,” said the grandmother proudly.

“But I just hated school,” grinned Lizzie.  “It ain’t so nice as it’s cracked up to be.  Just sit and study all day long.  Why, they were always keeping me after school for talking or laughing.  I was glad enough when I got through.  You may thank your stars you didn’t have to go, Bess.”

“People who have to earn their bread can’t lie around and go to school,” remarked Aunt Nan dryly, and Elizabeth said no more.

But later she heard of a night-school, and then she took up the subject once more.  Lizzie scoffed at this.  She said night-school was only for very poor people, and it was a sort of disgrace to go.  But Elizabeth stuck to her point, until one day Lizzie came home with a tale about Temple College.  She had heard it was very cheap.  You could go for ten cents a night, or something like that.  Things that were ten cents appealed to her.  She was used to bargain-counters.

She heard it was quite respectable to go there, and they had classes in the evening.  You could study gymnastics, and it would make you graceful.  She wanted to be graceful.  And she heard they had a course in millinery.  If it was so, she believed she would go herself, and learn to make the new kind of bows they were having on hats this winter.  She could not seem to get the right twist to the ribbon.