Chapter I

"Six o'clock! Thank fortune!" exclaimed one of a group of girls in Mr. Hardman's store.

Mildred Lee glanced up with a sigh of relief, moving with quicker fingers at the thought of being so near the end of her day's work. She was a pale pretty girl about sixteen, with soft brown hair, dark eyes, and a something more refined in her air and manner than her associates. Perhaps it was that in her dress there were none of the flimsy attempts at finery which the other girls affected so strongly, or perhaps it was only her quiet, lady-like self-possession which had in it nothing of vulgar reticence or pride; but, in any case, there was a touch of something superior to all lowering influences, and the most flippant sales-woman in "Hardman's" lowered her tone of coarse good-humor, stopped short in any gay recital, when Mildred's pretty face and quiet little figure came in view.

"Six o'clock," said Jenny Martin, a tall, "striking-looking" young person, who was helping Milly to put away some ribbons. "Oh dear, now we'll be kept! There comes that lady from Lane Street. She'll stay half an hour."

"Young ladies, what are you about?" exclaimed the voice of Mr. Hardman's son and heir, a short, stout young man, very much overdressed, and who bustled up to the counter, dispersing the little group with various half-audible exclamations. Then he turned, bowing and smiling, to the late customer.

She was a plain, elderly woman, dressed in a quaint fashion, but bearing unmistakable signs of good-breeding; evidently what even Mr. Tom Hardman would recognize as a "real lady." Miss Jenner, of Milltown, was regarded by the store-keepers in her vicinity as a valuable customer. She was known to be very rich, although eccentric, and her great red brick house, a little back from the street, with its box-walked garden and tall old trees, was one of the finest and most respectable in the county. Miss Jenner had been two years abroad, and this was one of her first visits to any Milltown store. She received Mr. Tom's servile courtesies with rather an indifferent manner, glancing around the big, showy store, scanning the faces of the tired young attendants, as she said, "Is not Mildred Lee one of your sales-women?"

"Miss Lee!" called out Mr. Tom.

Mildred moved forward quickly, looking at the new customer with an air of polite attention, but none of her employer's obsequiousness.

THE LATE CUSTOMER—Drawn by Jessie Curtis Shepherd.

Miss Jenner met the young girl's glance with a swift critical stare.

"Here," she said, rather shortly, "I want some gloves, and I'd prefer your serving me."

Miss Jenner's wishes could not be slighted, and so Mr. Hardman hovered about deferentially, rather altering his tone of insolent command when he spoke to the young sales-women, and finally dispersing them while he walked up and down the cloak and mantle department, out of Miss Jenner's hearing, yet sufficiently within sight to be recalled by a look from his wealthy patroness.

As soon as she found herself alone with the shop-girl, Miss Jenner said, with a searching glance at the young face bending over the glove-box:

"So you are Mildred! Child, it seems strange enough to see your father's daughter here. How did it happen?"

"Oh!" Mildred exclaimed. She drew a quick breath, while the color flashed into her cheeks. "Did you know papa?"

"Yes." Miss Jenner spoke rather shortly.

"Well," said Mildred, "you see, after his death—we had almost nothing. Mamma is giving music lessons, and I came here, just because it was all I could get to do. Bertie is at school," the girl added, a little proudly.

"But your mother does not live in Milltown?" the lady inquired, with a frown of perplexity.

"Not quite in the town," said Mildred. "We have a little cottage on the Dorsettown road. Papa seemed to think, before he died, that he would like us to come to live here."

Miss Jenner answered nothing for a few moments. She tapped the counter with her fingers, pushed the point of her parasol into the ground, and coughed significantly one or twice before she spoke.

"Well, Mildred," she said, finally, "I suppose you know the way to my house? I should like you to come to tea with me next Tuesday. I am expecting some young friends."

Mildred Lee could scarcely answer for a few moments. How often she had passed and repassed the fine old house in Lane Street, wondering what grandeur and comfort must repose between its walls, but never had she dreamed of receiving an invitation from its owner.

"Well," exclaimed Miss Jenner, drawing out her well-filled purse, "don't you mean to come?"

Mildred smiled, and drew a quick breath.

"Oh yes, thank you, Miss Jenner, very much," she contrived to say; and almost before she could revolve the question further in her mind Miss Jenner was gone, and she found herself face to face with Mr. Tom. Now this young man was Mildred's special aversion. Not that he was as overbearing with her as with the other girls, but that he seemed to have singled her out for attentions that Mildred found odious.

"It's rather late, Miss Lee," he said, with his insolent smile; "so I may as well walk home with you."

"Thank you, Mr. Hardman," answered Milly—she never called him "Mr. Tom," as did the other girls—"I can manage very nicely by myself. I always walk fast, and I have always a great deal to think about."

"Then walk fast, and let me think with you," he said, with a laugh.

Mildred dared not offend him, and so she forced herself to accept his escort, although it was evident even to the self-confident young man she disliked it. They threaded the busy streets of Milltown, "Mr. Tom" raising his hat jauntily to passing acquaintances, Mildred keeping her eyes fastened on the ground, only anxious to reach the little white cottage where her mother and brothers and sisters were waiting tea for her return.

"There, Mr. Hardman," she said, trying to look good-humored, as he held open the gate; "I won't ask you to come in, because—"

"Oh, I know," exclaimed Tom, with an easy laugh. "Because you think the guv'nor would not like me to be visiting any of the girls. Never you mind; he won't know."

"That has nothing to do with it, sir," answered Mildred, speaking with forced composure, though her face flushed scarlet. "It was because I knew my mother prefers I shall not receive visits from people whom she does not know; but if it be true that your father objects to your visiting any of his employees, that is an additional reason for your never forcing attentions upon me again."

And with a very stately bow Mildred moved past him, entering the little house, while "Mr. Tom," indulging in a prolonged low whistle, turned on his heel, with something not very agreeable in his expression.

[to be continued.]