can get."

"She's coming," some one whispered. Everybody tried to look unconcerned.
Those who had no work to claim attention looked carefully at their
finger-nails, or found sudden necessity to adjust collars and belts.
Miss Higgins passed along the tables, bending over the heads and
speaking to each in a low voice. The tears were running down her cheeks.
Those retained concealed their happiness as best they could, and spoke
words of sympathy and encouragement to their less fortunate companions.
The warrants were received with a stoicism that was more pathetic than
tears. From the far end of the room I heard an unaccustomed sound, and
turning, I saw the forewoman, who had dropped into a chair at the
forget-me-not table, her face buried in her arms, and sobbing like a
child. It was the signal that her cruel duty was done, that the last
"lay-off" sentence had been pronounced, that the work for the day and
for the "season" was over, that it had come time to say good-by.

"Good-by!" The voices echoed as we trooped down-stairs to the street
door. "Good-by! Good-by!" The lingering farewells rose faintly above the
noises of Broadway, as we scattered at the corner. Good-by to
Rosenfeld's--now no longer a reality, but rather a memory of idyllic
beauty--the workroom bright with sunshine and flashing with color, with
the faces of the workers bent over the fashioning of rose and poppy, and
best of all, the kind hearts and the quick sympathy that blossomed there
as luxuriantly as the flowers themselves.

Good-by to my four happiest weeks in the workaday world.

XIII

THREE "LADY-FRIENDS," AND THE ADVENTURES THAT BEFALL THEM

Into every human experience there must come sooner or later the bitter
consciousness that Nature is remorselessly cruel; that she laughs
loudest when we are most miserable; that she is never so bright, never
so beautiful as in the darkest hour of our need; that she ever makes
mock of our agony and ever smiles serenely at our despair.

Such, at least, were my feelings in those long, beautiful June days that
followed close on the "lay-off" at Rosenfeld's.

Dear little Bessie! poor unhappy Eunice! This chapter of my experiences
is so dominated by their personalities that I shall devote a few words
to recounting the circumstances which brought us together and sent us
faring forth on a summer's day to seek new fortunes, three
"lady-friends," arm in arm. I make no apology for saying
"lady-friends." I