“Which is mamma. I can manage that,” Sherry answered, not at all disheartened by Mrs. Groves’ requirements, and with the understanding that she should spend the night with Mrs. Pledger, she left home on the morning of the day appointed by Mrs. Groves for the interview. CHAPTER VI THE INTERVIEW Sherry did feel a little shaky as she went up the steps to No. — West Twenty-fourth Street and touched the bell. The _lark_ did not look quite so funny as it had at first. But with her usual strong will, she put aside any regret she might have felt. It was too late to go back; there was nothing to do but go forward. Her ring was answered, and she was soon face to face with Mrs. Groves, a woman of fifty-five or sixty, who had forgotten her youth, if she ever had any, and thought of nothing except to maintain her position with dignity and discharge her duties conscientiously. She felt it an honor to be chosen as the matron at Maplehurst by the Marshes, and did not shrink at all from the responsibility of choosing the waitresses. She had already dismissed a dozen or more as wholly unfitted for the place, and her forehead was puckered in a frown when Sherry’s card was handed to her. “Fanny Sheridan Sherman,” she read. “A pretentious name. I remember her writing to me. Show her in.” This last to the bell boy, who pushed aside the portière and Sherry entered and bowed to the lady rustling in black satin, with a bit of Duchess lace at her throat and gold-rimmed eye-glasses on her nose. There was no servility in Sherry’s manner or appearance of timidity. She was always self-possessed, and never more so than now, when answering Mrs. Groves’ questions. “What is your name? Oh, yes, I know,—Fanny Sheridan Sherman. Fanny will be sufficient, if I take you. Superfluities like Miss, as some girls like, will not be permitted.” Sherry bowed and said she was twenty years old, that her home was in Buford, Massachusetts, that she had never been in service and had no references. “No references!” Mrs. Groves repeated, rather severely, and Sherry replied: “None except what mother might give you. I have never worked out, but have done a good deal at home.” “What can you do?” “All that is required of a waitress, I think,” Sherry said. “You can try me, and if I do not suit you can dismiss me.” “Are you willing to wear a cap?” was Mrs. Groves’ next question. Two or three applicants for the place had refused caps and been promptly dismissed by Mrs. Groves, who looked curiously at Sherry, waiting for her answer. “Why, yes, I’ll wear a cap if you wish it and think I’ll do my work any better.” “It isn’t that,” Mrs. Groves said. “It is not a matter of work. It is a badge,—a sign,—a distinction——” “Yes, I know,” Sherry replied. “I know what the cap means. I’ll wear it,” and she laughed inwardly as she saw herself in a cap waiting upon a table and imagined Katy’s indignation when she heard of it.