Three Little Women Part 20

CHAPTER XX

Constance B.'s Venture

Owing to the stirring events at home, Jean had not set forth that morning, but the first excitement, incident to the sale of their belongings over, she prepared to drive out to East Riveredge, with her box of candies. Mrs. Carruth entertained some misgivings regarding the wisdom of letting her again pa.s.s through McKim's Hollow, but a compromise was effected by Jean agreeing to take a different road. It made the trip a trifle longer, but was free from dangers, and Jean set forth in high feather and bursting with importance.

Having seen her off, Constance flew to her room, and within half an hour emerged therefrom dressed all in soft brown. Little brown toque, with a modest brown quill stuck through the folds of the cloth. Brown kilted skirt and box coat, brown furs and brown gloves. She looked almost as sedate as a little Quakeress, although her cheeks were rosy from excitement and her eyes shone.

"Mother, I have a little matter to attend to in South Riveredge. You won't feel anxious if I am not back before dark will you?" she asked as she paused at her mother's door, on her way down-stairs.

Mrs. Carruth looked at her a moment before replying and wondered if the girl had any idea how attractive she was. Then she asked:

"Am I to refrain from making inquiries?"

"Please don't ask a single question, for even if I wanted to answer them I couldn't," said Constance, as she kissed her mother good-bye.

Half an hour later she was at the Arcade in South Riveredge, asking the elevator man to direct her to the office of the superintendent of the building.

"Room 16, fourth floor," directed the man. So to the fourth floor went Constance. Opening the door of No. 16, she entered, but stood for a second upon the threshold rather at a loss how to proceed. Seated at a large rolltop desk was a man wearing a brisk, wide-awake air which instantly reminded her of her father. Gaining confidence from that fact, so often are we swayed by trifles, she advanced into the room, saying: "Good afternoon. Are you the superintendent of the building?"

"I am," answered the gentleman, smiling pleasantly, and rising from his chair. "What can I do for you, young lady?"

Now that she had actually come to the point of stating her errand, Constance hardly knew where to begin. The superintendent noticing her hesitancy said kindly: "Won't you be seated? It is always easier to talk business when seated, don't you think so?" and placing a chair near his desk, he motioned her toward it.

Mr. Porter did not often have calls from such youthful business women, and was somewhat at a loss to understand the meaning of this one.

Constance was not aware that in placing the chair for her he had put it where the light from the window just back of him would fall full upon _her_ face.

Taking the chair she looked at him smiling half-doubtfully, and half-confidently as she said:

"Maybe you will think I am very silly and inexperienced, and I know I _am_, but I'd like to know whether you have any offices to rent in this building, and how much you charge for them?"

The big eyes looked very childish as they were turned upon him, and Mr. Porter could not help showing some surprise at the question. He had a daughter about this girl's age, and wondered how he would feel if she were in her place.

"Yes, we have one unoccupied office on the eighth floor, in the rear of the building. It is divided into two fair-sized rooms and the rental is four hundred dollars a year."

Constance jumped. "Four hundred a year! Why that is almost as much as we pay for our _whole_ house! My goodness, isn't that a lot? I had no idea they cost so much. Dear me, I'm afraid I can never, never do it,"

and her words ended with a doubtful shake of her head.

"Do you object to telling me just what you wish to do and why you need an office?" asked Mr. Porter kindly. "Perhaps I could offer some suggestions. Sometimes our tenants like to rent desk room, and if you needed no more than a desk----why----."

"But I couldn't use a desk for a counter, could I?" hesitated Constance.

"That depends upon what the counter had to hold. Suppose you tell me.

Then we will see." The deep blue eyes behind the gla.s.ses regarded her very encouragingly.

Constance's eyebrows were raised doubtfully as she replied:

"I'm afraid you will think me very foolish and unsophisticated, and of course I am, but I just _know_ I can succeed if I once get started right. Besides I _won't_ give up unless I _have_ to. Other girls do things and there is no reason _I_ shouldn't. I know my candy is good, 'cause if it wasn't Mammy could not sell it so easily, and--"

"Candy? Are you planning to sell candy? If it's half as good as the candy an old colored woman sells around here you'll sell all you can make. I buy some of her every time she comes here, and my girls ask every day if she has been around with it. It's great candy."

As Mr. Porter talked Constance's cheeks grew rosier and rosier, and her eyes danced with fun. Of this he speedily became aware, and looking at her keenly he asked:

"Have you ever eaten any of the old Auntie's candy? Does she make it herself? I've asked her a dozen times, but I can't get her to commit herself! She always gets off a queer rigmarole about her 'pa'tner,'"

ended Mr. Porter, smiling as he recalled Mammy's clever fencing with words.

"Yes, I've eaten it. No, she doesn't make it; she only sells it. _I_ make it," confessed Constance, nervously toying with the ends of her fur collar.

"You don't say so! Why it's the best candy I've ever tasted. Well, really! And you think of opening a _stand_?" concluded Mr. Porter, a little incredulously, for the girl before him did not seem to be one who would venture upon such an enterprise.

"Well yes, and no. I want to have a place to sell it here in South Riveredge, but I can't exactly have a counter you see, because I am still in school the greater part of the day. So I thought up a plan and--and I want to try it. Would you mind if I told you about it?"

The sweet voice and questioning look with which the words were spoken would have won the ear of a less interested man than Robert Porter.

More than an hour pa.s.sed before this plan which had been simmering in the girl's active brain, was laid before the practical business man, and he was amazed at what he afterwards p.r.o.nounced its "level-headedness."

When the conversation ended, Constance was wiser by many very sane suggestions made by her listener, and more than ever determined to carry her plan through.

"Now, young lady, by-the-way, do you mind letting me know your name?

We can talk better business if I do. Mine's Porter."

"I am Constance Carruth," said Constance.

"Carruth? Not Bernard Carruth's daughter?"

"Yes."

"You don't say so! Why I knew your father well, little girl, and respected him more than any man I've ever known. He was a fine man.

Bernard Carruth's daughter? Well I declare."

Constance's cheeks glowed more than ever. Praise of her father was sweet to her ears.

"Well, well, Bernard Carruth's daughter," repeated Mr. Porter, as though he could not quite make it true. "Well, come with me. I've an idea for this candy selling scheme and we'll see what we can do."

Rising from his chair he led the way to the elevator. Upon reaching the main floor he walked to the rear of the building where the stairway was situated.

In the alcove made by the box-stairs stood the public telephone switch board and two booths. At the right, close under the stairs, was an empty s.p.a.ce too low for the booths, and yet of no use to the operator, since while she might be able to occupy it when sitting at a desk, she was very likely to encounter a cracked crown if she rose too quickly from her chair. All was enclosed with a little wooden railing and well lighted by the electric lights.

"Now I am wondering if we couldn't rig up a tempting little booth in this unoccupied s.p.a.ce. Good afternoon, Miss Willing. How would you like to share your quarters with this enterprising young lady? She has a mighty clever idea in that logical head of hers and I'm going to do my best to help her make it a success. How about _you_?" he ended, making a mental contrast between the strikingly handsome, dark-haired, dark-eyed girl at the telephone booth, whose glances flashed back at him so boldly, and whose toilet would have been better suited to an afternoon function than a telephone booth, and the modest, well-gowned, young girl beside him.

"I guess I won't bother her, and I'm sure she won't bother _me_," was the reply which proved the speaker's fiber, and caused Constance to look at her and wonder that any one _could_ be so lacking in refinement. Little Connie had many things to learn in the business world into which she was venturing. But the knowledge would do her no harm. She was well equipped to stand the test.

The girl saw the look of surprise and no rebuke could have been keener. With a little resentful toss of her head, for this girl who had so innocently made her aware of her shortcomings, she turned to answer a call upon the 'phone, and Constance to listen to Mr. Porter's words.

"Now, Miss Carruth, my idea is this: Suppose we have this little s.p.a.ce fitted up with attractive cases, and the necessary shelves. It is not very large, but neither is the venture--yet. When it grows bigger we will find a bigger cubby for it. The thing to do now is to find the _right_ one; one where you can make a good show, and be sure of catching your customers, and where the customers are likely to come to be _caught_. I don't know of any place where, in the long run, more are likely to come than to a 'phone booth. What do you think of it?"

"It's just _splendid_!" cried Constance. "I couldn't have found a better place no matter how long I tried. I'm _so_ much obliged to you, Mr. Porter."

"Better wait until you see how it pans out--the booth, not the candy. I can speak for the panning of that," laughed Mr. Porter, then added: "Well, that is step No. 1 taken. Now for No. 2, and that is stocking up. Have you thought about that?"