Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise., 1938-11-04

Brenda seized on that like a hawk.
"They were privately engaged-it
was an understood thing-till Miss
DeIafield came into the store. But
that isn't the first romance she's brok-
en- up. She just can't help it, Paul.
! suppose it's all in the INFRINGING,
really. l mean not having to work
like us, and that European education
she got. It's fact, anyway that she
goes out plenty with the men in the
store-like Rameses, the window dress
er-and the girls tell me she makes
dates over the phone with the manu-
facturers. 1 ran right into her my
self in the buying offices, having a
grand time with the statesmen"
He said curtly: "She had no bust
ness in the buying offices"
Now the story about Rameses was
a pure invention. And the truth a
bout AIMS visit to the buying depart
ment was that Miss Shellfish had
sent Ann to inform the representative
of Max Furchheimer, manufacturer
of Misses Dresses, that she would
await the return of Max himself from
Chicago before placing any more or
ders.
"Love's Young Dream" the sales
man had said, for he was annoyed.
But it had been he who had been
laughing at his joke, not Ann, when
Brenda had spied them.
Forget it, Paul. Beginners are apt
to make mistakes. I'm not the person
to get anybody in trouble"
If she were flirtatious round the
things about Ann Delafield, and the
very fact that the doings of sales
girl should upset him, added to his
discontinue.
What was the child to him? What
did she matter, anyway?
IfI she were flirtatious round the
store, making dates with the manufac-
turers, how had he eper imagined she
could make a trustworthy buyer?
When the manufacturers stood in
awe of him an dhis power to dictate
to them what they were to manu-
facture for Barclay & Weiss, was this
child to set at naught the policy
of the store (only to be broken dis
creetly by a chosen few of the eX-
ecutives) that social relations were
something quite apart from business?
She had seemed so respectful, so
humble almost, the first day she had
entered the store. From compari-
son-shopper he had denoted her to
salesgirl in the Misses Dresses, be-
cause he thought the experience would
be salutary for her, after her over
enthuiasm in ordering the masks and
dominoes for the Skating Carnival,
and having the goods returned un-
paid for, and, furthermore, he had
thought that direct contact with the
customers would be excellent discip-
line.
Was Brenda Selz telling the truth ?
Why was she edging closer to him
on the sofa, and flashing her dark
eyes at him like a couple of giglamps?
you're a wonderful person, Paul.
I often tell people you're an Atlas,
carrying the whole world on your
shoulders!"
This classical allusion she consid-
cred was a master-stroke.
He smiled sarcastically.
"Why don't you say I'm a potato
with eyes all over my head?"
"Oh, a potato has no brains"-she
laughed shrilly, a little put out at his
lack of response-''it was only yester-
day was telling Mr. Weiss that you
sure are the whole brains of the or
ganization!"
"Well, that wouldn't make a hit
with him, my dear girl. Don't for
get the owner has his own creative
policy"
The "my dear girl" delighted her.
She edged still closer. The scarlet
chiffon handkerchief tied to her left
wrist was on his knee. Couldn't he
take the hint, and hold her hand?
AS though in league with Brenda,
the exquisite strains of "Parlez Moi
d'Armour" ("Speak to Me of Love")
floated up from the ballroom. These
were the words that Brenda yearned
might come from the lips of the mer-
chandise-manager.
She had fine voice, contralto
She aired it now. Her eyes boldly
on his face-for it was do or die!-
she trilled throatily: "Speak to me of
Love e. that am longing to hear-r!"
He rose. ''I am booked for this
waltz"