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Copyright, The Frank A. Munsey Co.
Mr. Johnson Bennett nodded to him-
self most hearty approval of the
young man who had just left his of-
fice. : .
He had seen to it personally that
young Chapwell be promoted from
kitchen utensils in the basement of
the Johnson Bennett department store
to be floor-walker of ladies’ suits on
the third.
He knew, too, that young Chapwell
wouldn’t linger long there—linger long
anywhere, for that matter—on his
persistent upward climb. It wouldn’t
be long before he was buyer; nor
would he stop there, either.
Young, Chapwell, too, was confident
of all this, and more, as he walked
home that evening to his boarding-
house.
But that did not in the least inter-
fere with the fact that his present
promotion was very good news—news
that couldnt be carried in a heart
without making it swell somewhat.
But what is the use of good news
unless there is some one to whom to
tell it?
That’s what young Chapwell
thought. So he started out early next
morning, that he might stop and tell
Kittles about it.
Kittles, of course, was already in
his little antiques shop.
He was giving the place its morning
sweep when young Chapwell arrived,
brushing up a little of the flour dust
from under carved tables and from
between mahogany chair-legs.
“You don’t tell me!” Kittles ex»
claimed, smiling his wrinkly, neigh-
borly smile at young Chapwell’s news,
for Kittles had brought to New York
exactly the same neighborly heart
that years ago, back home, had been
so concerned about old lady Cooper’s
new
barn.
“You don’t tell me! Why it don’t
seem more than a jiffy ago since you
was an independent, uppish little
chap just startin’ in bein’ a cash-boy!
You're like Ira Briggs, back home.
He started out sweepin’ up in Al Has-
fifteen years ago. Now he’s got a
third interest in ths store. Where're
you goin’ to stop?”
He beamed affectionately on the
youth and then added: “Bet you'll go
and get married now.”
Young Chapwell regarded Kittles
with candid, boyish eyes.
“No, I'm not gcing to get mare
ried,” he gravely =z cured Kittles.
“Yes, you will,” old Kittles insist-
“And T tell you what: you come
to me when you set up housekeepin’.
There’s a lot of good things I've kep’
out of sight, savin’ ‘em for my neigh-
bors. Neighbors come first.”
Young Chapwell moved toward the
door. “But I'm not,” he protested.
Kittles laughed scoiingly. “Don’t
you tell me,” he said.
Young Chapwell looked very
as he walked down the street.
As a matter of fact, he always in-
tended to marry when he reached that
particular salary, and here was the
salary and yet no girl.
But it was no use.
And, fortunately, that first morning
in the new department he had no time
to brood over it, for a special reduc- |
tion sale of fall suits was advertised.
Young Chapwell was too busy get-
ting the stock arranged and the. sale
started to give even a word of instrue-
tion to Number Forty-One, Miss Ever-
man, the" saleslady starting new that
morning.
Miss Murdock, the head saleslady,
had, however, reassured him on that
score, and had promised to have an eye
to the new-one herself.
The morning was half over “before
he really saw Forty-One, and then
he caught sight of her standing with
Murdock over by the glass-case where
the high-priced suits were kept.
And oh, what a girl!
Sweeter .and younger and dearer
than ever he had dared to hope! The
dressiest and most coiffuraed ladies on
the floor became nomentities beside.
her in her plain little dark blue serge
with its white collar.
But the morning wasn’t offering him
leisure to marvel at his miracle. In-
deed, that very moment there entered
a stout, peremptory matron with three
snobbish-looking misses in her charge.
“Forty-one!” he called.
She looked at him but made no
move. Apparently she had forgotten
her number. Poor little thing! She
didn’t belong in a place like this, any-
haw.
He motioned for her. Her eyes
opened a little wider, but still she did
not come. He motioned again, and
this time she came, a deep flush
mounting to her cheeks and a queer,
little one-sided smile on her lips.
“Did you want me?” she asked.
#This lady will show you what you
want, madam. The special sample
suits? Right over there.”
A few minutes later he made a point
of passing that way again to see how
she was making out, and was tenderly
amused to hear how bravely she was
recommending the garments in Miss
Murdock’s own special manner.
«That fits you lovely. Perfectly
lovely, lady. Believe me, madam, I'd
grave
-
! she could get naggy about it.
never want you to take it if it didn’t.
Presently Miss jock, a blue
velvet costumne thrown over her arm, |
came back to the glass-case of the ex- |
nanan, Soe yy ai]
pensive suits, gave a Dewildered
glance round, caught sight of Forty-
One with her customers, gasped, and
said—young Chapwell heard her dis-
tinctly—*Oh, my. glory!”
It irritated him exceedingly to see
how she stood and stared at Forty-
One. The girl was doing splendidly,
young Chapwell told himself. And
suppose she didn’t make a sale?
What of it? Murdock needn’t think
She'd
Letter be careful.
When ths peremptory matron and
fhe three snobbish misces left without
buying he managed to be near to give
ber a friendly smile. She was stand-
ing ard looking a little dejectedly at
the array of suils scattered over
choirs.
, “Thai’s all right,” he assured her
kindly. *“F-~»~ ’em vn and get ready
for the ncxt cre. Better luck next
time.”
A few ceconds later, from another
r rt ¢f ike floor, he ~lared at the retry
view of Idizs Murdock as he saw her
join Forty-One and talk long and cx-
citedly with her. ;
“She’d better lst her alone,”
muttered to himself,
Then he saw Miss Murdock begin
to explain to her about charge ac-
counts and credit slips, and felt eas-
ier.
But when shortly after, that head
geleslady motioned to him that the
stout matron who had gone out with-
out purchasing had been one of her
best customers, and other seasons had
often bought as many as four suits in
one afternoon, why then he couldn’t
even trust himself to reply.
It was surprising how many oppor-
tunities the day offered for talking
with her.
First of all, he discovered on a chair
over by the glass-case of the expen-
sive suits a soft little velvet hat and
a blue serge coat in a heap, and he
knew in a thrilled instant where they
belonged.
«Forty-Ond,” he called sternly.
And when she came he pointed a
renroochful finger at the heap, but in
spite of himself he couldn’t keep his
eyes stern; they kept laughing in ten-
der amusement at her. :
Forty-One fiushed adorably
picked up the coat and hat.
“Never, in all my experience in this
store—"’ he began, genuinely trying
to be stern.
“1 don’t know where to put them,”
she interrupted.
«You certainly must have been
told,” he chided her. “Take them to
Miss Murdock and she will show you.”
And as he walked on his eyes still
refused to fill in line with his dignity.
Again she came to him to say that
the $18.75 suits were going pretty fast
and Miss Murdock wanted to know
yrére there any more in stock.
“No,” he told her, a little dizzy over
the joy of talking to her again. “I
telephoned not five minutes ago.”
“But people will keep asking for
them,” she protested. “Couldn’t we
—_couldn’t we reduce some of the fif-
teen-dollar suits to eighteen seventy-
five?”
Not until she laughed did it strike
him funny. “You've got a lot to
learn,” he said.
Then they both looked each other
full in the face and laughed and
laughed—silently, of course, but with
convulsive shoulders, until young
Chapwell felt that never before in his
life had he been so deliciously and in-
timately well acquaintea with any
cone.
But in thinking it over afterward
he didn’t feel very sure why they had
laughed, because it really wasn’t very
funny, after all; just $15 suits reduced
to $18.75. :
She had always something to tell
him whenever he came near.
She had almost lost her life in try-
ing to keep a red-haired lady from
buying a mulberry suit; and didn’t
he. think she ought to discourage the
middle-aged, stout ones from buying
the very tight skirts?
And when they looked rather poo.-
ish, ought she to let them buy the
draped skirts that were sure to go out
before another season?
And weren't they having a good day
of it? He could scarcely trust himseit
to answer that.
Their relations had traveled so
cmazingly for this day, with only
glances and smiles and a bare handiul
of words for milestones, that he was
awed with the wonder of it and, con-
sequently, more and more concerned
over her white tiredness.
«She’s not used to it,” he thought
«poor little kid! And just as soon as
1 decently can—" :
He found that he wasn’t the only
one that kept watching her.
During the day he saw the sales-
wemen in little groups staring at her,
and was annoyed with the curiosity or
jealousy, or whatever it was, that
prompted it.
He found himself under observa-
tion, too; and more than often met
stares that were curious and amused.
For himself, he didn’t mind — he
had encountered a little of that every
time he had gone to a new depart-
ment—but he was indignant for Forty-
Cne’s sake.
The worst thing of all happened
right after lunch. He had felt, rather
than seen, a new epidemic of excite-
ment suddenly spread over the de-
partment, and his eye, searching the
cause, had found Mr. Bennett him
self, standing there on the flmor, star-
ing, staring, staring at Forty-One.
Whether the girl was aware of it or
he
and
not couldn’t be told, for she went
icht or ] ing twelve. d r suits
to an u 1=bby, middle-aged
customer.
Young Chapwell walked away with
an angry scowl.
Bennett himself] Bennett, Bens
nett, who owned the whole place! He
didn’t pretend to understand, but he
didn’t like it.
He wished he could take her away
that very evening—but he supposed
people had to know each other a few
days before that sort of thing.
Ie begrudced even those few days.
Then when closing time came she |
sought him out to say “Good-by”’; and |
that, he knew, must be quaintly and !
dearly like her. |
“Good-by,” he said; and hoped she
knew how much more than “Good- |
by” he was really saying.
She took a deep breath and smiled
up to him. “Good-by! Haven't we had
a glorious day?”
Then she was gone, but he knew
that she did know. : :
And all the way home he was weav-
irg vivid, wondexzful dreams that be-
came more real every minute.
So he stopped in at Kittles’s dusty,
cluttered store, this time not because
Kittles was a2 good neighbor-soul, but
now because the dusty contents of the :
store held for him a new and mys-
{ctious—they were the things that
hc'~ed make a home.
ilitiles shook a coquettish finger as
he noted Chapwe'l’s new interest.
«Aha! You ARE goin’ to get mar-
ried, ain’t you?”
“Yes, 1 an,” young Chapwell re-
plied with his usval frankness. de
“Well, well, well,” Kittles mused.
Then with a sudden air of mystery
he went to the back of the store and
presently appeared with a pink-band- !
ed gold-edged tea-set which he im-
pressively displayed on the counter.
«Jinks! That's some class!” Chap-
well breathed with admiration.
“I’ve been savin’ that for a bridal
couple,” Wittles confided, “and I'll
make you a weddin’ present of that
for ten dollars.”
If young Chapwell didn’t reply at
once it was because he was caught
with a vision of her ecstasy over
them. Dear little kid! Guess she'd
open her eyes some at a tea-set like
that!
Kittles misinterpreted his silence.
“No, sir! I am going to make it
eight,” he corrected himself, “That’s
how big-a fool I am over briual
couples.”
Besides the tea-set, young Chapel
bought her a work-box and a tea-et-
tle and a gilt frame mirror.
It was not unitl he was about to
leave that he saw the little mahogany
rocker, which Kittles assured him was
the best veneered rocker in the place. |
It wasn’t the veneering or the finish |
that caught young Chapwell’s fancy, |
but rather a picture in his mind of |
that chair, by a window, ard an eager
girl waiting, watching—for—HIIi
With the exception of
cents in small change, young Ch
had already emptied his pockets, but
7 repeated.
#7 thought I'd never catch up,” she
Faspe her boyish eyes smiling into
Speechless, he stared back at her,
She went on,
“] wanted ito apologize for yester-
day—that trick I played — but I
couldn’t do it in the store in front of
every one. Could I? So I got your
address from the manager, but when
I got there you'd just left, and you
wouldn’t turn cnece to look back, or
slow down, or anything, I thought
I'd never catch up!”
Then Kittles, displaying chairs to a
woman customer in the rear of the
store, turned and saw them.
“Blest if there he ain’t now!” he
exclaimed in delighted surprise.
He left his customer and came for-
ward, nodded with businesslike po-
liteness to the girl, ‘and then spoke
confidentially to young Chapwell.
“Now, loot here,” he said, “you
know that chair you’re going to buy
for your young lady? Well, I got a
customer back here that wants it tad.
Wouldn't care to give it up, wcald
you?”
“She .can have it.”
Kittles’s face dropped with dicap-
pointment.
“But I told her she couldn’t!”
“She can have it,” young Chapirell
“I’ve decided not to get it.”
“But I want you to have it,” .it-
tles persisted. “Even if you ain’t got
the money now, it’s all right.”
“No—" young Chapwell began to
object, but Kittles wouldn’t let him
do it. He returned back to his wom-
an customer. !
“I'm goin’ to hold it for you,” he
warned young Chapwell.
The young girl drew a bit nearer to
the dusty onyx table and to young
Chapwell, a little of the gay daring
and the brightness gone now from her
eyes.
“] wish you'd let me buy
her,” she begged.
“Don’t!” he stopred her sharply.
The girl’s mouth drooped with her
hurt.
“] knew,” she said, “that ycu’re
awfully put out about yesterday, and
it for
I'd like the ‘chair to be a peace c er-
ing and a—a sort of thank you for the
awiully nice time I had yesteid::.”
She looked at him anxiously. “ou
ARE cross, aren't you?” she snl’.
He shook his head. No, he wosn’t
CY Oss.
He would have answered if he c~uld.
“Of course, I shouldn’t have cone
that yesterday,” she admitted. ‘But
it WAS fun, selling things, ard I’ve
always wanted to. I think it’s i) my
blood. You see,” she exp ined sim-
ply, her boyishly frank eycs upon his
until they gave back to him for the
moment the strange illusicn that she
was again Forty-One, so: 'e onc of
whom he micht take care “nd make
happy with pink and gold tea-sets and
“mahogany rockers—
“You see,” she ' was continuing
Littles promised on his horor and.“shess my fathes-met my rcther; she
under no circaiisiances whatsoever |
fo z<ll it te ~uy one else.
“Give my boot to yeur missus,” Kit-
3 coiled facetiously as young Chap:
ICH,
vou”
yey,
gravely.
ia couid scarcely wait to
g
S
young Chapwell re-
get back
.ore next morning to see her.
Arrived there, he eagerly sought the
s of each entering saleslady. Sha
vos late. Very late. Even by eight-
tli: ty she had not come.
He went to Miss Murdock.
Where is Miss Everman?” he de-
manded. :
Miss Murdock grinned in evident
enjoyment and pointed to the tall
blonde with the unpleasant, bold eye.
“] mean Forty-one,” he corrected.
“That’s her.”
“But where
stammering.
“That young lady you was calling
Forty-One”—with what glee she
rubbed it in!—*“yesterday happened to
be Miss Minerva Bennett, and she was
selecting a hundred-dollar velvet cos-
tume from her father’s store, though
she most generally has all her gowns
made in Paris, as was that very dress
she had on yesterday. And her father
gave her a third interest in the store
on her eighteenth birthday, and be-
sides when her mother died she got a
fortune which she couldn't spend if
she was to take all her time to it.”
He remembered how he had pic-
tured her ecstasy over the tea-set—
she, who could haye bought out Kit-
tles with a litile of her loose change!
“She’ll think she’s dreaming fairy
stories!” he quoted himself bitterly.
None of these excuses did he make
even in his own heart.
to the
5
is—" He stopped,
With a dull apathy he remembered
the gilt mirror and. the work-box and
the tea-kettle,
He remembered, too, the veneered
mahogany rocker at Kittles’s—the one
that was to have stood by the window.
That night after supper he walked
wearily around to Kittles’s to tell him
not to save the rocker.
So immersed was he in his heart-
achy gloom that he didn’t hear his
landlady from her doorway call, “Hi,
Mr. Chapwell!”
Nor, of course, her subsequent as-
surance to the slim young girl in dark
blue who stood on her door-step,
“Hurry on, miss! Youll catch him
easy.”
But it was not easy to catch him,
though the firl in dark blue hurried
and hurried and hurried.
Now and then, when the passers-by
were not noticing too much, she téok
little running steps, but even then she
did not overtake him until he had
turned in Kittles’s door.
lipned in the door, too, and
. leaning against it, too
actually
She
stood ©
breathless for the moment to speaks |
|
1
i
was clerk in a dry-gocds sto.e and he
was in a grocery. I was born above
a little five and ten, the first store my
father owned. And we’d never in this,
world be where we are now if moth-
er’s brother hadn’t died in Alaska and
left us some gold—that and father’s
nerve and luck.
“And ‘waitin’ on trade’ is in mw
bloqd just as some folks have’rheu-
matism and others natural piety. And
Paris and check-books can’t take it
out, either. I'm more Forty-One than
vowd think. And there are heaps of
things I've always wanted to do”—
she drew little circles on the dusty
onyx as if to indicate the heaps—
“and I couldn’t do them. I don’t know
just why, except that I couldn’t.
“No one expected me to, because
I'm an heiress-person. And then yes-
terday when you called me it sudden-
ly seefned as if there was one thing
I wanted to do that I could do. You
made it possible for me to do it. And
we did have a good time, didn’t we?”
He didn’t answer.
“Didn't we?” she persisted.
“Yes,” he maneged to get out.
“So that’s why I want to give you
the chair, for—"” she faltered-a little
—4or HER. She’ll like it. It’s a nice,
homy little chair.”
«please don’t,” he blurted out in
agony.
She regarded him gravely.
“You aren’t angry NOW?”
‘No, he wasn’t angry.
“you are going to get married,
aren’t you?”
«Don’t make things worse?” he
begged.
Her eyes opened wider, puzzled.
“How worse? What do you
mean?’
He shook his head wretchedly.
“You must explain. Can’t,you see
that you must?” she demanded with
grave dignity.
He winced as he brought it out. “It
—it was you I planned to marry
when—"
«when I was Forty-One?”
He nodded.
For a moment there was-silence and
trembling nerves. Young Chapwell
felt his bones turn to cobwebs.
Then the girl said “Oh-h!” in a
half-sobbing, halflaughing sort of
way. For a dizzy mcment their eyes
held each other, and then, blinded
with too much light, looked away.
«youn could call very soon,” the girl
said dreamily. “That’s one of the
things they hadn’t planned for me to
do. But I don’t mind if it isn’t—if
you don’t.”
From the rear of the store sounded
Kittles’s voice.
“Sorry, ma'am,
look at some of the others.
young man over by the
it for his
but you'd better
That
sweetheart, if I have
to have
to give it outright.”
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| FacSimile Signature of
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CASTORIA
THE CENTAUR COMPANY, NEW YORK CITY.
Joseph L. Tressler
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MEYERSDALE, PENN'A.
~~
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