nd the
corridor; but I copied no more addresses. Most of the people were
polite. Some men waved me away, like C. Jenkins Smith. Some looked
impatient at first, but excused themselves politely in the end. Almost
everybody said, "We're busy here," as if they suspected I wanted them
to read a whole year's issue of the "Searchlight" at once. At last one
man told me he did not think it was a nice business for a girl, going
through the offices like that.

This took me aback. I had not thought anything about the nature of the
business. I only wanted the money to pay the rent. I wandered through
miles of stone corridors, unable to see why it was not a nice
business, and yet reluctant to go on with it, with the doubt in my
mind. Intent on my new problem, I walked into a messenger boy; and
looking back to apologize to him, I collided softly with a
cushion-shaped gentleman getting out of an elevator. I was making up
my mind to leave the building forever, when I saw an office door
standing open. It was the first open door I had come across since
morning--it was past noon now--and it was a sign to me to keep on. I
must not give up so easily.

Mr. Frederick A. Strong was alone in the office, surreptitiously
picking his teeth. He had been to lunch. He heard me out
good-naturedly.

"How much is your commission, if I may ask?" It was the first thing he
had said.

"Fifty cents, sir."

"Well, I'll tell you what I will do. I don't care to subscribe, but
here's a quarter for you."

If I did not blush, it was because it is not my habit, but all of a
sudden I choked. A lump jumped into my throat; almost the tears were
in my eyes. That man was right who said it was not nice to go through
the offices. I was taken for a beggar: a stranger offered me money for
nothing.

I could not say a word. I started to go out. But Mr. Strong jumped up
and prevented me.

"Oh, don't go like that!" he cried. "I didn't mean to offend you; upon
my word, I didn't. I beg your pardon. I didn't know--you see--Won't
you sit down a minute to rest? That's kind of you."

Mr. Strong was so genuinely repentant that I could not refuse him.
Besides, I felt a little weak. I had been on my feet since morning,
and had had no lunch. I sat down, and Mr. Strong talked. He showed me
a picture of his wife and little girl, and said I must go and see them
some time. Pretty soon I was chatting, too, and I told Mr. Strong
about the Latin School; and of course he asked me if