if your job was that of
dusting the granite ware.

At first Ray's delicate fingers, accustomed to the touch of soft, sheer
white stuff and ribbon and lace and silk, shrank from contact with meat
grinders, and aluminum stewpans, and egg beaters, and waffle irons, and
pie tins. She handled them contemptuously. She sold them listlessly.
After weeks of expatiating to customers on the beauties and excellencies
of gossamer lingerie she found it difficult to work up enthusiasm over
the virtues of dishpans and spice boxes. By noon she was less resentful.
By two o'clock she was saying to a fellow clerk:

"Well, anyway, in this section you don't have to tell a woman how
graceful and charming she's going to look while she's working the
washing machine."

She was a born saleswoman. In spite of herself she became interested
in the buying problems of the practical and plain-visaged housewives
who patronised this section. By three o'clock she was looking
thoughtful--thoughtful and contented.

Then came the summons. The lingerie section was swamped! Report to Miss
Jevne at once! Almost regretfully Ray gave her customer over to an idle
clerk and sought out Miss Jevne. Some of that lady's statuesqueness was
gone. The bar pin on her bosom rose and fell rapidly. She espied Ray and
met her halfway. In her hand she carried a soft black something which
she thrust at Ray.

"Here, put that on in one of the fitting rooms. Be quick about it. It's
your size. The department's swamped. Hurry now!"

Ray took from Miss Jevne the black silk gown, modest but modish. There
was no joy in Ray's face. Ten minutes later she emerged in the limp and
clinging little frock that toned down her colour and made her plumpness
seem but rounded charm.

The big store will talk for many a day of that afternoon and the three
afternoons that followed, until Sunday brought pause to the thousands of
feet beating a ceaseless tattoo up and down the thronged aisles. On the
Monday following thousands swarmed down upon the store again, but not in
such overwhelming numbers. There were breathing spaces. It was during
one of these that Miss Myrtle, the beauty, found time for a brief
moment's chat with Ray Willets.

Ray was straightening her counter again. She had a passion for order.
Myrtle eyed her wearily. Her slender shoulders had carried an endless
number and variety of garments during those four days and her feet had
paced weary miles that those garments might the b