“Do you think straw sewing easy work?” Mr. Coolidge asked, with a genial smile, and deeply interested in the fair stranger. “I always thought it very pretty work, and judged it easy,” she answered, naïvely. “Have you relatives living in New York?” Mr. Coolidge asked, thoughtfully. “I have no relatives, excepting very distant ones,” and the sad tones touched him. “Excuse me for asking the question,” he added, courteously, “but I feared if you remained with us, the accommodations in the boarding-house might not be pleasant for you, and I hoped you had some other place to which to go.” “Thank you,” Brownie answered quietly, “but if you kindly consent to my staying, the boarding-house will do as well for me as for the others whom you employ.” He opened a door opposite the one by which she had entered the office, and led her into a long room where a hundred girls sat at tables, their hands flying back and forth upon the hats and bonnets, as if their very existence depended upon the number of stitches which they could set in a minute; as it did, poor things! “This is the wiring room,” explained Mr. Coolidge, “and I think you could learn to do this work more easily than any other; you are not strong enough to run a machine, and your fingers are too tender to finish off the tips,” and he glanced at the delicate hands from which she had drawn her gloves. “Machines! Are hats and bonnets made by machinery?” she exclaimed, in surprise. “Yes,” and he smiled at her ignorance, then asked: “Do you think you would like to work here?” “Yes,” Brownie answered, “and I think I can learn very readily.” “Very well. Miss Walton, please come here a moment,” Mr. Coolidge called to the overseer of the room. She came at his bidding. A tall, angular, sour-visaged woman, who had been in the establishment for years, and her face grew darker yet when her eyes fell upon the delicate beauty of the young girl standing by her employer’s side. She had always hated everything that was bright or beautiful, probably because it made her own deficiency in that respect so apparent. “Miss Walton,” continued Mr. Coolidge, “this is Miss Douglas, and I wish you to assign her a pleasant seat in the hall, and teach her to wire hats.” “Teach her! I thought no inexperienced hands were wanted here?” exclaimed the woman, measuring the young girl with her keen eyes, and speaking in an impatient tone. “That was what I said, Miss Walton. I desire you to teach her to wire hats. Please give her some work right away.” Mr. Coolidge spoke in a quiet, authoritative way, which there was no gainsaying, and he had specified hats, because he knew they were much easier to do than bonnets. Without replying to him, Miss Walton told Brownie to follow her, and, with a grateful smile and bow to her employer, she obeyed.