Patty's Success Part 27

"These pins are too small,--but you see what I mean."

Miss O'Flynn did see. She saw that two larger pins would finish the hat with just the right touch, while any other decoration would spoil it.

She looked at Patty curiously.

"You're a genius, Miss Fairfield," she said. "Will you trim another hat?"

"Yes," said Patty, looking at her watch. "It's only four o'clock. May I have an evening hat, please?"

"You may have whatever you like. Come and select for yourself."

Patty went to the cases, and chose a large white beaver, with soft, broad brim.

"I will make you a picture hat, to put in your window," she said, smiling.

She selected some tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs and returned to her seat at the table.

It was rather more than half an hour later when she showed Miss O'Flynn her work.

"There's not much work on it," Patty said, slowly. "I spent the time thinking it out."

There was not much work on it, to be sure; and yet it was a hat of great distinction.

The white brim rolled slightly back, and where it touched the low crown it met two immense roses, one black and one of palest pink. Two slight sprays of foliage, made of black velvet leaves, nestled between the roses, and completed the tr.i.m.m.i.n.g.

The roses were of abnormal size and great beauty, but it was the mode of their adjustment that secured the extremely _chic_ effect.

Miss O'Flynn's eyes sparkled.

"It's a masterpiece," she said, clasping her hands in admiration. "You have trimmed hats before, Miss Fairfield?"

"No," said Patty, "but I always knew I could do it."

"Yes, you can," said Miss O'Flynn. "Will you come now, and talk to Madame?"

Ushered into the presence of Madame Villard, Patty suddenly experienced a revulsion of feeling.

Her triumph over Miss O'Flynn seemed small and petty. She was conscious of a revolt against the whole atmosphere of the place. The suavity of Miss O'Flynn's manner, the artificial grandeur of Madame Villard, filled her with aversion, and she wanted only to get away, and get back to her own home.

Not for any amount per week would she come again to this dreadful place.

She knew it was unreasonable; she knew that if she were to earn her living it could not be in a sheltered, luxurious home, but must, perforce, be in some unattractive workroom.

"But rather a department store," thought poor Patty, "than in this place, with these overdressed, overmannered women, who ape fine ladies'

manners."

Patty was overwrought and nervous. Her long, hard day had worn her out, and it was no wonder she felt a distaste for the whole thing.

"You are certainly clever," said Madame Villard, patronisingly, as she looked at the hats Miss O'Flynn held up for her inspection. "I am glad to offer you a permanent position here. You will have to learn the rudiments of the work, as the most gifted genius should always be familiar with the foundations of his own art. Will you agree to come to me every day?"

Patty hesitated. She hated the thought of coming every day, even if but for a week. And yet, here was the opportunity she was in search of.

Tr.i.m.m.i.n.g hats was easy enough work; probably they wouldn't make her learn lining and covering at once.

Then the thought occurred to her that it wouldn't be honest to pretend she was coming regularly, when she meant to do so only for a week.

"Suppose I try it for a week," she suggested. "Then if either of us wishes to do so, we can terminate the contract."

"Very well," said Madame, who thought to herself she could make this young genius trim a great many hats in a week. "Do you agree to that?"

"At what salary?" asked Patty, faintly, for she felt as if she were condemning herself to a week of torture.

"Well," said Madame Villard, "as you are so ignorant of the work, I ought not to give you any recompense at all; but as you evince such an apt.i.tude for tr.i.m.m.i.n.g I am willing to say, five dollars a week."

"Five dollars a week," repeated Patty, slowly. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

Patty did not mean to be rude or impertinent. Indeed, for the moment she was not even thinking of herself. She was thinking how a poor girl, who had her living to earn, would feel at an offer of five dollars for six long days of work in that dreadful atmosphere.

"I beg your pardon," she said, mechanically, and she said it more because of Madame Villard's look of amazement, than because of any regret at her own blunt speech. "I shouldn't have spoken so frankly. But the compensation you offer is utterly inadequate."

Patty glanced at her watch, and then began drawing on her gloves with an air of finality.

"But wait,--wait, Miss Fairfield," exclaimed the Madame, who had no wish to let her new-found genius thus slip away from her. "I like your work. I may say I think it shows touches of real talent. Also, you have unusually good taste. In view of these things, I will overlook still further your ignorance of the details of the work, and I will give you seven dollars a week."

"Madame," said Patty, "I am inexperienced in the matter of wages, but I feel sure that you either employ inferior workwomen or that you underpay them. I don't know which, but I a.s.sure you that I could not think of accepting your offer of seven dollars a week."

"Would you come for ten?" asked Madame Villard, eagerly.

"No," said Patty, shortly.

"For twelve, then? This is my ultimate offer, and you would do well to consider it carefully. I have never paid so much to any workwoman, and I offer it to you only because I chance to like your style of work."

"And that is your ultimate offer?" said Patty, looking at her squarely.

"Yes, and I am foolish to offer that; but, as we agreed, it is only for one week, and so----"

"Spare your arguments, madame; I do not accept your proposal. Twelve dollars a week is not enough. And now, I will bid you good-afternoon. Am I ent.i.tled to pay for my day's work?"

With Patty's final refusal, the manner of Madame Villard had changed. No longer placating and bland, she frowned angrily as she said:

"Pay, indeed! You should be charged for the materials you spoiled in your morning's work."

"But in the afternoon," said Patty, "I trimmed three hats that will bring you big profits."

"Nothing of the sort," snapped Madame. "The hats you trimmed are nothing of any moment. Any of my girls could have done as well."

"Then why don't you pay them twelve dollars a week?" cried Patty, whose hara.s.sed nerves were making her irritable. "I will call our financial account even, but if any of your workwomen can trim hats that you like as well as those that I trimmed, I trust you will give them the salary you offered me. Good-afternoon."

Patty bowed politely, and then, with a more kindly bow and smile to Miss O'Flynn, she went through the draperies, through the front salesroom, and out at the front door. The milliner and her forewoman followed her with a dignified slowness, but reached the window in time to see Patty get into an elaborately-appointed motor-car which rolled rapidly away.