Mrs. Jocelyn felt that the necessity which compelled this quest was a bitter one, and her heart daily grew sorer that she had not resolutely saved part of every dollar earned by her husband in the old prosperous times.  As she saw the poor young creatures standing wearily, and often idly and listlessly, through the long summer days, as her woman’s eyes detected in the faces of many the impress of the pain they tried to conceal but could never forget, she half guessed that few laborers in the great city won their bread more hardly than these slender girls, doomed in most instances never to know a vigorous and perfected womanhood.  “Belle, my child, how can you stand during these long, hot days?  It’s providential that we can’t find any place.”

“Well, mamma, I’m not very well up in the ways of Providence.  I fear the dull season has more to do with it.  Nevertheless I’m going to make a situation if I can’t find one.”

She had in her mind a shop on Sixth Avenue, which had the appearance of a certain “go and life,” as she phrased it.

“There’s a strong-willed, wide-awake man back of that establishment,” she had said to herself more than once, “and if I could get at him I believe he’d give me work, but the hateful old foreman stands in the way like a dragon”.

She and her mother had been curtly informed by this well-dressed “dragon,” which parted its hair like a woman, that “there was no use in bothering the proprietor; he never added to his help in August—­the idea was absurd.”

One morning after Mrs. Jocelyn had about given up the hope of obtaining a place until the autumn trade revived—­as far as it would revive in those languid years—­Belle started out alone, heavily veiled, and with her purpose also veiled from her mother and Mildred.  She went straight to the shop on Sixth Avenue that had taken her fancy, and walked up to the obnoxious foreman without a trace of hesitation.  “I wish to see Mr. Schriven,” she said, in a quiet, decisive manner.

“He is very busy, madam, and does not like to be disturbed.  I will attend to anything you wish.”

“Thank you; then please direct me to the proprietor’s office without delay.”

After a moment’s hesitation the man complied.  This veiled presence had the appearance of a gentlewoman and was decided in manner.  Therefore he led the way to a small private office, and said, “A lady, sir, who insists on seeing you,” and then discreetly closed the door and departed.

The man of business allowed his pen to glide to the end of his sentence before turning to greet his visitor.  Belle in the meantime had advanced to a point from which she could look directly into his face, for, child though she was, she understood that it was her difficult task first to obtain a hearing, and then to disarm his anger at her intrusion.  Aware, however, that she had nothing to lose and everything to gain by the adventure, her natural fearlessness and quickness of tongue carried her through.  She had already guessed that an appeal for employment, even the most pitiful, would meet with a flat, prompt refusal, therefore she had resolved on different tactics.