A SELF-APPOINTED MOSES. figure. Then she sat down and assumed the aggressive. "You'd better not take presents from Mr. Hartmann, nor let him take you anywhere. It is better to keep business and friendship on different sides of the ledger. Candy may be all right in the office." "You can just bet it is. You ought to get in on this. Hasn't he given you any?" "I didn't take it." "You eat mine!" "I won't any more." "I didn't mean that," said Myrtle, penitently, "but you're so funny." She put up her hand to brush the wisps of hair from her face with a gesture which Barbara had always thought rather taking, but her hand perceptibly shifted the mass of light hair on her head. Why would Myrtle go to such extremes? "He's asked me to go to a French dinner with a crowd." 83 Uncle Clem took care of Mabel and me, but Mabel died, too. His wife was good enough to me, but she went off with another man." Myrtle spoke slowly, her chin propped on her hand, her eyes on the floor. "Don't you know, I wouldn't have done that." She raised her eyes to Barbara's as though not quite sure of agreement. It seemed merely a case for dispassionate opinion. "No," said Barbara, "I'm sure you wouldn't." "It's no cinch for a girl to get on without her folks," Myrtle went on, more warmly. . "Some of the girls get mad because they've got to do things for their people. I wouldn't. Gee, if Mabel was here I'd send her to college and give her a chance, like you've had." Barbara was touched, but she did not believe in showing sentiment. "Well," she said, getting up, "you have had a hard time, but you will "Don't go," said Barbara, decid- only make matters worse if you accept edly. "Why not? It's the only chance, I get to go to anything swell." "It's the only chance you will get, if you go. That's no place for a girl to be seen with her employer." "He ain't married!" flashed Myrtle. "I don't know whether he is or not. He might be a more decent man if he were. But if you go to such places with him a few times, nobody that you care to go with will take you anywhere." "It's all right for you to talk," cried Myrtle passionately. "You have things. You can go to places and know people. You've been to college. And you even have your own folks. I ain't got anybody; I don't have anything, and I've just got to have a good time and have people kind to me. I don't believe you care," she said, soberly, after a moment, "whether people like you or not. I don't believe you'd let even your mother pet you." "I haven't had my mother for six years," said Barbara. "My mother died when I was six. any favors from a man like Hartmann. Do your work and save your money. Maybe sometime you will be able to choose your friends." "He's good to me," said Myrtle, apologetically, "but you know, I don't really care about him." "No; I shouldn't think any one would," answered Barbara, as a vision of her employer's puffy eyelids, thick neck and coarse mouth rose before her mind. "But don't deceive yourself into thinking that he is good to you merely because he is a kindhearted man. He isn't. You're going to clean up that desk before you go home, aren't you? Good-night." If Barbara had any idea that her warning to Myrtle had been heeded, her hopes were destroyed next evening. As she was returning from a rather unusual indulgence in the theatre, her car was boarded by a late banqueting party. Mr. Hartmann's elaborate bow at once drew her attention to them. Myrtle tried to avoid her notice by shrinking behind one of her overdressed and evidently underbred. companions. But though she man aged to keep the length of the car between them, Barbara saw that she was covertly watching her, apparently divided between admiration of her, and reluctance to be seen by her in such company. Myrtle had several times volunteered the opinion that Barbara "must be a stunner" when she was dressed up, but her curiosity had never been gratified before. The next morning Barbara found Myrtle briskly at work at her desk. She greeted her brightly, though with a conscious look, and began dividing a bunch of hothouse roses which lay on her desk. "Don't you want some of my flowers?" she asked. "No; I don't like flowers on my desk -they get in my way." Myrtle took the rebuff meekly, and went on with her work. Barbara's expressed aversion to conversation during working hours subdued her evident desire to talk it over, until noon. "You looked awfully swell last night," she said, turning to Barbara as soon as the noon whistles began to shriek. with regard to the necklace; it had looked like a more expensive gift than Myrtle's admission had made it. "But it isn't the value of things," Barbara thought, as she took a car from the office for an afternoon across the bay. "Myrtle isn't avaricious. Anybody could bribe her with a glass bead on a string if he polished it up with soft soap. She said rightly that she must have a good time and the soft things of life. Such a child! She has never a thought how she may buy them." Barbara threaded her way through the crowd at the Ferry Building. She had taken this trip for the express purpose of getting away from her brooding. "I'm getting snuffy," she thought "if I keep on like this, I shall be no good at all." Seeing no familiar face as she passed through the waiting room, she established herself on the boat at the upper rail near the stern where she could watch the foaming wake of its paddle wheels and the skimming gulls. It was a good place for reflection, and presently she found herself taking hold of the other horn "Thank you," said Barbara, closing of the dilemma. her typewriter. Myrtle tried again. "That was a pretty fresh crowd I was with." "Yes," said Barbara, as though assenting to a very obvious fact. "I'm going out to lunch." "I suppose she thought she was in for another lecture," thought Barbara as she closed the door. "I'm through. If I'm going to worry myself over every little giddy-pate I meet, and try to save her from herself, I'll have my hands full." And she was able to convince herself of this for a whole day. But the matter was not settled. Myrtle's desk was gay with flowers; she wore a new bracelet of doubtful value, and Barbara knew from some allusions that there had been other dinners. Barbara was annoyed with herself; even in business hours she found her mind analyzing the situation while her hands were busy with the keys. She had satisfied herself "If there is no hope of Myrtle's coming to herself, surely it's no use to expect anything from Hartmann. Myrtle is silly, but she is not bad, and she would do anything for a person she cared for. It's a shame to have her under the influence of a man like that." Barbara glared fiercely at an innocent launch with a striped awning that was rocking dizzily on the swell in their wake. Even now it did not occur to her that her employer might be playing Myrtle off against her to excite her envy. She was rather lacking in personal vanity, and her contempt for the man made his admiration, which had been plainly expressed and as promptly rebuffed, a matter of indifference to her. For a business woman to trade on any other quality than her efficiency was, to Barbara, a deep disgrace. Had she guessed, even vaguely, how far she owed her present position to her fine A SELF-APPOINTED MOSES. physique and handsome face, face, the house of Hartmann had known her no more; even the florid proprietor would have shriveled in the blaze of her scorn. She watched a gray gull circling close over the lower deck in search of food. "I suppose I might take a hand. He is just like a child: any new game would divert him from the old one. Probably Myrtle will never forgive me for cutting her out." Barbara smiled with amusement. "It may be the only way, but I hate it. Slimy old thing!" she said to herself. "Jolly day, isn't it?" Barbara pulled herself out of the intricacies of the situation to return the greeting of the young fellow who stood beside her. "Why, Howard Canfield! How do you come to be crossing the bay?" "First time in six months. I'd forgotten the bay could be so pretty. Wish I lived on this side and went over every day." He sat down on the bench beside her, his hat tipped back on his head, his eyes scanning the wide, rippling bay with its frame of. home-clad green hills drawing nearer There was an air of resolute wellbeing about Howard that she liked. She always took an elder-sister attitude toward him from the vantage point of her superior years. She thought to-day he looked older, and there were tired lines around his eyes. "How's the pattern making?" she asked. "Fine as silk. We've got some big orders, and they're coming on in great shape." Howard's face glowed with interest. "You're staying too close to your work, aren't you? Are you having any fun?" "Oh, yes; I go out to the Park and have a game of baseball now and then." "But you don't have any social times?" Howard shook his head. "Too busy. Fesides, I don't know many people. Some of the boys go to the public 85 When Barbara decided that a result was desirable she did not wait for chance to bring it about, SO she straightway set about Myrtle's-rescue by the cultivation of Mr. Hartmann's friendship. Previously, her cool indifference had kept his advances so subdued that very slight concessions on her part were noticeable. The first time roses appeared on her desk, Myrtle scanned them sharply, but said nothing. The second time she remarked tartly: "I thought you didn't like flowers. You said they were in your way." "I don't care for them in the office," said Barbara candidly, "but you have them. Why shouldn't I?" "I like them," said Myrtle, holding up a waxen bud. "Ain't that classy?" But she took her answer and said no more. Barbara did not share her candy with Myrtle, but the elevator boy and the janitor's family reveled in chocolate creams. She accepted "Pippa Passes" and "The Seven Seas," in the daintiest Roycroft editions, but she returned the "Rubaiyat," though it was. a marvel of the bookmaker's art. Myrtle's flowers grew less abundant as Barbara's grew more, and the evening entertainments seemed to have ceased. Myrtle said nothing, but watched her, seemingly half-puzzled, half-critical. For a time, Barbara declined all invitations, but a ticket to the Carlyle Art Exhibit tempted her, since its acceptance did not imply the donor's company. She spent a delightful Saturday afternoon enjoying the pic tures, excepting that Mr. Hartmann appeared, and she had to discuss pictures with him for a half hour. Monday morning, Myrtle met her entrance with a cool nod, and during office hours she was silent enough to suit even Barbara. At noon she went out to lunch. When the clock struck five, Myrtle drew the cover down over a perfectly ordered desk, rose and began adjusting her hat carefully. She turned from the mirror toward Barbara, who was still sorting carbons, with an insolent sparkle in her eye. "If I was you, I wouldn't take presents from the boss, nor go places with him. It's better to keep business and friendship separate. I would not have friendly relations with my employer." Barbara flushed. She hated subterfuges, but she could not avow her real purpose. "You set me the example," she said lightly. "It isn't any worse for me than it is for you, is it?" "Yes, it is worse." Myrtle's hand clenched. "I never pretended to be better'n I am. I never preached to anybody else and then went and did. the same thing myself, just to cut 'em out. Anybody'd know you could cut me out if you half tried. You didn't need to try to get me to quit. I never did a girl dirt like that because I wanted her flowers and things." "Neither did I," said Barbara, indifferently. "If I got presents," Myrtle went on, "it was because people wanted to give 'em to me. I never took anybody else's." Barbara, pigeonholing file copies, did not even look up. Myrtle paused to gather emphasis for her final shaft. "Yes, be good and save your money," she mimicked; "then maybe you can choose your friends; at least you can work your friends' - friends for all that's out. I hope you are going to clean up that muss before you go. Good-night." Barbara finished sorting papers and closed her desk. She felt harassed and irritated, but there was no resentment in her feeling toward Myrtle. "I did preach," she told herself. And Barbara counted preaching among the seven deadly sins. She returned to the office rather early next morning. On her desk she saw a funereal cluster of tube roses and ferns tied with an exaggerated bow of ribbon. Barbara hated the fragrance. "Where did these come from?" she demanded. Myrtle's typewriter was was clicking vigorously. After a moment a meek voice answered: "I got them for you. Don't take his flowers any more.' It was such an obvious surrender that Barbara replied laughingly: "All right, chicken, I'll do just as you say. Do you want to go to the Park, Sunday?" "Don't I," cried Myrtle, with sparkling eyes. That evening Barbara carried out her next plan for Myrtle's betterment. She telephoned to Howard Canfield. "Don't you want to take my friend, Miss Bradley, and me to the Park, Sunday?" "Howard is a nice boy," she assured herself, as she hung up the receiver, "He's steady and dependable, and considering how he has worked up without family or friends to help him he has done wonders. If Myrtle is going to forget her swell friends, I must find others. It won't be enough to have the upper chamber swept and garnished." The day in the Park was one of unalloyed joy, to Myrtle, at least. To be with Barbara and her young man. on an equal social footing was a height of dizzy rapture only dreamed of before. Barbara's explanation that Howard was a boy she had known a long time was precisely the language in which Myrtle herself would have described a would-be lover, so her estimate of the situation was natural. She vibrated to every new experience. The glitter of her previous acquaintances had dazzled her, for she thought that was what society meant, A SELF-APPOINTED MOSES. but she responded even more readily to the intellectual stimulus of "talking about things that meant something." She listened with rapt attention while Howard explained with laborious precision the principle of wireless telegraph, meanwhile taking careful notes on her instructor. His air of respectful reserve toward them was quite new in Myrtle's experience; she was much more accustomed to being "jollied" by her masculine. quaintances, and to "jollying" in return. But she felt somehow, vaguely, that she was entering into her natural inheritance. Barbara, behind her apparent indifference, observed them both, keenly, as Howard, with his hat pushed back on his head, stood watching Myrtle's raptures over a particularly dainty slipper orchid in the conservatory. She noted mentally that he looked waked up. “That looks rather like Cinderella's doesn't it?" he commented. "I'd like to be able to wear one like it," ventured Myrtle. "I'll bet you could, but I don't see any pumpkins or the rest of the outfit around here." "I'm glad there aren't any mice," said Myrtle, promptly. Howard laughed. That was, for Myrtle, her distinct achievement for the day, that she had made him laugh. There was a square-set energy in Howard's bearing and movements that inspired confidence, and a certain stern reserve in manner and speechexcepting when he laughed. To Myrtle's mind there was something restful and satisfying in the sense of power it betokened. She mentally classified it with Barbara's unapproachable manner. To be able not to care what others thought of you because you had thoughts of your own, that was what "having a chance" gave people. "Where did you find her?" queried Howard, when they had left Myrtle at her own street. "She's a peach." "Myrtle is a nice little thing," commented Barbara, judiciously. "We work in the same office, you know." 87 "Well, I wouldn't mind spending every holiday like this. It's a lot more fun than piking off to the beach alone," he remarked, as he swung himself off the car. It came about that there were many such expeditions during the spring. The only person apparently not pleased by the growth of the friendship between Myrtle and Barbara was Mr. Hartmann. It piqued his vanity to be suddenly dropped from favor, for Barbara had kept her promise and declined his flowers. In truth, as soon as she was sure of Myrtle's rescue, she returned to her icily indifferent manner toward him, with joyful relief. "Where did you get that?" questioned Barbara, one morning, when she found Myrtle inspecting a dainty pearl pendant of considerable value. Myrtle wagged a sage head in the direction of the inner office. "Found it on my desk." "What are you going to do with it?" "Give it back. Isn't that what you would do?" "Yes. When?" Myrtle laid the green cotton over the pretty thing with a caressing touch and closed the box. "Now," she said, as she rose and went into the inner office. Myrtle had been so like wax in any hand that wished to mould her that Barbara half-expected to see her return with the gift. Presently she reappeared, rather pale and breathless, but triumphant. "What did you tell him?" asked Barbara, openly curious. "I told him I didn't think a girl ought to take such expensive presents from her employer, nor from any man. Isn't that what you'd have said?" |