Mangan, who was in charge of the department, had been waiting for her in a small room off the repair shop, and as he caught sight of her frail figure making her way toward him, rose to greet her.  “Well, I’m glad you’ve come,” he began, as she reached his desk.  “Brought that Spanish piece, didn’t you?  Ought to have had it last night.”

She tried to smile, but his face was too forbidding.  “No, I am sorry to say that—­”

“You didn’t!  What have you done with it?”

“I could not finish it.  I have brought everything else.  I will have it for you in the morning.”

Mangan looked at her curiously, a smirk of suspicion crossing his narrow fox face.  “Oh!  You’ll bring it to-morrow, will you?” he sneered.  “Well, do you know that to-morrow’s New Year’s Eve and that this mantilla’s got to be delivered to-night?  They have been telephoning all day for it.  To-morrow, eh?  Well, don’t that make you tired!  It does me.”

An indignant protest quivered through her, but she dared not show resentment.  Only within the last few months had she been subjected to these insults, and only her helplessness had compelled her to bear them.

“I am very sorry,” she answered simply, and with a certain dignity.  “I have not been very well.  I have done all I could.  The damage was greater than I expected.  Some of the threads must be entirely restored.”

“What time to-morrow?” Every kind of excuse known to the shop-worker had been poured into his ears.  Very few of them contained a particle of truth.

“Before noon, if I can; certainly by four o’clock.”

“Four o’clock?” he roared.  He had already made up his mind that she was lying, but there was no use in his telling her so, nor would any time be gained by taking the work from her and handing it over to another employee.

“Four means eight, I guess.  What’s the matter with ten o’clock?  I got to have that sure, and no monkeying.  Can’t you brace up and jam it through?”

“I will try.”  Her cheeks were burning under the sting of his coarse lashes.

“Try!  You bet you’ll try!  Better get home right away.  Give me that bundle—­I’ll have it checked up, so you won’t lose no time.”

She bit her lip, her whole nature in revolt, but she made no reply.  Too much was at stake for her to show anger at such coarseness.  She had no rights that he was bound to respect.  She was only one of his work-girls, and her short experience had shown her that but few of her associates received better treatment from him.

“Thank you,” was all she said as, with downcast eyes, she picked her way through the crowded workroom, down the long, steep staircase reserved for employees and so on to the street.  There she caught a Third Avenue car and sank into a seat near the door, encroaching upon her small reserve of pennies to reach home the sooner.  She saw but too clearly that not only did her present position