Grannie pursed up her lips, but did not speak.
She knew far better than Alison that these small wages, although an immense help, could not possibly do the work which her feather-st.i.tching money had accomplished.
"Well, dearie," she said, after a pause, "I am glad that things are so far good; but have you quite made up your mind not to marry poor Jim, then, Alison?"
"No, no, not quite," she replied, coloring; "but the fact is, I want two strings to my bow. By the way, I did not tell you that the Clays have invited me to a party there to-morrow night?"
"The Clays!" exclaimed Grannie. "Sakes! you aint goin" to them?"
"Yes, but I am. I have promised."
"I don"t think the Clays are the sort of people that a girl of your breed ought to know, Alison. Poor as we are, we hold up our heads, and why shouldn"t we, being----"
"Oh, Grannie, here is your fifteen shillings," interrupted Alison. "I saw Mr. Squire, and he said he was sorry, but he really could not offer more, as the feather-st.i.tching was not done."
"He were put out, weren"t he?" said Grannie, her little face puckered up in her intense anxiety to know how Mr. Squire bore the calamity.
"After a fashion, yes," said Alison; "but he said the new embroidery which is coming in so much would do quite as well, and he knew a woman who would do the things in a hurry. He said: "Give my compliments to Mrs. Reed, and say I am sorry to lose her nice work," and he paid me my money and bowed me out of the shop."
"It is all over, Grannie," continued the girl, cruel in her severity, and not knowing she was stabbing the old woman"s heart at every word.
"You place wonderful store by that feather-st.i.tching, but the new embroidery will do quite as well for all the fine ladies, and other women will get the money."
"Yes, yes," said Grannie, "yes, it is the will o" the Lord. Somehow, that seems to steady me up--to bear it like."
She went out of the room tottering a little, but came back quite cheerful when the children returned home for the midday meal.
After dinner Alison went to see Mr. Shaw. She did not like this job at all, but she knew she had no chance of getting another place unless she could induce Shaw to give her a character. She planned how best to go to the shop without being observed by the rest of the shop people. She was too handsome a girl not to have created a great deal of attention during her stay at Shaw"s, and now, with this story about the theft hanging over her head, she would be more interesting and more worthy of criticism than ever. She dreaded beyond words being seen at Shaw"s, more particularly by Louisa Clay and Jim Hardy. She crept in by a side entrance, and as the shop was very full at this hour (Christmas being so close at hand, the crowd this afternoon was denser than ever), she managed to escape attention. She could see without being noticed. She observed Louisa flaunting about the shop, looking very handsome, and on every possible occasion appealing to Jim for advice or help. Jim was the walker to-day, and Louisa was always calling him to her on one pretext or another. It seemed to Alison"s jealous eyes that the young man did not dislike her too-evident attentions. He always replied to her with courtesy, and, according to Alison, stood by her side longer than was necessary.
"I must get that situation in Oxford Street," muttered the girl to herself. "I shall feel fit to kill those two if ever they are wed, and the further I am off the better."
Her angry and excited feelings gave her courage, and she was able to ask a comparative stranger--a girl who scarcely knew her--if she could see Mr. Shaw.
"I am afraid you cannot to-day," was the reply. "The manager is too busy, but if you like to call again----"
"No, no, I see him there. I"ll ask him myself," was the reply.
"Lor", what cheek!" muttered the new shop-girl; but Alison was too far away to hear her.
She had approached Mr. Shaw as he was wishing one of his customers "A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year." He turned round with a smile on his lips. Things were doing remarkably well, and he could afford to be cheerful. Suddenly his rather staring, bloodshot eyes encountered the full gaze of Alison"s clear blue ones.
"Eh, Miss Reed?" he said, stepping back in astonishment.
"Yes, sir; can I speak to you?" said Alison.
"Certainly, my dear, certainly; come this way. She has found out who the thief is, and will come back once more," muttered the manager to himself. "She"s the best and most attractive shopwoman I ever had; she shall come back immediately after Christmas."
He hurried Alison through the shop into his own little counting-house.
He shut the door then, and asked her to seat herself.
"How are you?" he said, fixing his eyes with a sort of coa.r.s.e admiration on her face. "You have got at the truth of this miserable matter, have you not? Now, I wonder who the thief is, eh? Well, all I can say is this: I am right glad that you know. We miss you, Miss Reed, in the shop. Your services have been of great value to us. I shall have the person who took that money prosecuted; there"s not the least doubt about that. Your character will be abundantly cleared, and you can resume your post here immediately after the Christmas holidays."
"I thought," said Alison, "that you had got someone else to fill my place."
"So I have, so I have--that Jenkins girl--the daughter of poor Tom Jenkins, who died in the autumn; but, bless you, she"s no good; she don"t even know the meaning of drawing on a customer! You see, Miss Reed, I don"t mean to flatter you, but you have got the tact, and just when the sales are beginning you will be invaluable. I can offer you a percentage on all the remnants you dispose of. Come, now, that"s a bargain; you"ll be right welcome back. You have got tact, and if I may be allowed to say so--_looks_."
Here the manager gave Alison another broad stare.
"By the way, who is the thief?" he continued.
"You quite misunderstand me, sir," said Alison. "I have not found the thief--I have not the faintest idea who stole that money; I only know that I did not, and that nothing will induce me to set foot again in this shop as one of the staff until I am cleared."
"Then, my good girl, may I ask what in the world you are wasting my time for?"
He approached the door of his tiny counting-house, and half opened it as he spoke.
"One minute, sir, please. Although I cannot of course come here, I naturally want to get another situation."
"I dare say; but that is not my affair."
"Oh, yes, please, sir, it is! I have just heard of a very good post in Oxford Street. I saw the manager this morning, and he said that he would give me the situation if you could recommend me. Will you, sir; will you give me a character, Mr. Shaw?"
"You have cheek," said Shaw, in a deliberate voice. "Do you suppose I am going to recommend a thief?"
"But, oh, sir, oh, Mr. Shaw, you know I am not that!"
"I don"t know anything of the kind; I only know that you are a brazen, unreasonable hussy. You know perfectly well that when you left here you forfeited your character. Yes, your att.i.tude, let me tell you, Miss Reed, cuts both ways. If you don"t choose to come here until you are cleared, I don"t give you a character until you are cleared. Come, now, that"s a fair bargain, is it not?"
"Oh, sir, it is so hard of you!" said Alison. "Sir, if you would but be merciful!"
"That"s my last word," said Shaw. "I must go back to attend to my customers."
He left the counting-house abruptly, and Alison did not take long in following his example.
"It is no good, Grannie," she said, when she entered her little home half an hour afterward. "Shaw is as hard as a millstone. He won"t give me a character until I am cleared; and, as I never shall be cleared, why, I"ll never get a character, and I cannot get a situation.
What is to become of me, Grannie; oh, Grannie, what is to become of me?"
At these words Alison gave way to the most terrible, overpowering grief. She did not know how to comfort Grannie, but Grannie knew how to comfort her. She patted her as if she were a baby; she stroked her soft hair, and kissed her hot cheeks, and laid her head on her own little shoulder, and made tea, although the supply in the caddy was getting very low, and then talked to her as she knew how, and with wonderful cunning and power of Jim, Jim, Jim.
As Alison loved Jim this subject could not but be of interest to her.
"There"s no other way out of it," said Grannie finally. "He is yer sweetheart, faithful and true--he don"t suspect you; he never will suspect you. You whisper "yes" to him on Christmas night, dearie, and don"t wait for next Tuesday. It"s the right thing to do, it"s the only right thing to do."
CHAPTER IX.
On Christmas Eve, Grannie went out and stayed away for about an hour.
She looked mysterious when she came back. She wore her zebra-pattern shawl, which was quite bulged out with parcels. These she conveyed quickly into her bedroom, notwithstanding the devouring eyes which the children cast upon them.