Now she walked quite aimlessly for a time, turning here and there, seeing one great company after another, but finding no courage to prosecute her single inquiry. High noon came, and with it hunger. She hunted out an unassuming restaurant and entered, but was disturbed to find that the prices were exorbitant for the size of her purse. A bowl of soup was all that she could afford, and, with this quickly eaten, she went out again. It restored her strength somewhat and made her moderately bold to pursue the search. In walking a few blocks to fix upon some probable place, she again encountered the firm of Storm and King, and this time managed to get in. Some gentlemen were conferring close at hand, but took no notice of her. She was left standing, gazing nervously upon the floor. When the limit of her distress had been nearly reached, she was beckoned to by a man at one of the many desks within the near-by railing. “Who is it you wish to see?” he required. “Why, any one, if you please,” she answered. “I am looking for something to do.” “Oh, you want to see Mr. McManus,” he returned. “Sit down,” and he pointed to a chair against the neighbouring wall. He went on leisurely writing, until after a time a short, stout gentleman came in from the street. “Mr. McManus,” called the man at the desk, “this young woman wants to see you.” The short gentleman turned about towards Carrie, and she arose and came forward. “What can I do for you, miss?” he inquired, surveying her curiously. “I want to know if I can get a position,” she inquired. “As what?” he asked. “Not as anything in particular,” she faltered. “Have you ever had any experience in the wholesale dry goods business?” he questioned. “No, sir,” she replied. “Are you a stenographer or typewriter?” “No, sir.” “Well, we haven’t anything here,” he said. “We employ only experienced help.” She began to step backward toward the door, when something about her plaintive face attracted him. “Have you ever worked at anything before?” he inquired. “No, sir,” she said. “Well, now, it’s hardly possible that you would get anything to do in a wholesale house of this kind. Have you tried the department stores?” She acknowledged that she had not. “Well, if I were you,” he said, looking at her rather genially, “I would try the department stores. They often need young women as clerks.” “Thank you,” she said, her whole nature relieved by this spark of friendly interest. “Yes,” he said, as she moved toward the door, “you try the department stores,” and off he went.