When Evangeline read the little note asking her to step into Mr. Willing’s office, she thought of course the new things from Hasenheimer’s had come, and that Mr. Willing would ask her if she could come back that evening to help unpack and place them. But it was Mrs. Willing’s voice which called “Come in!” to her knock, and the moment she opened the door she knew by the expression on Mr. Willing’s face that something important was on the way. Mr. Willing waited till she and his wife had gone through the necessary greetings and then brought it out flatly, “Mrs. Knapp, Miss Flynn has just told us that, because of certain changes in her family affairs, she will be leaving us next month.” He went on talking after this, but Evangeline did not need to hear him. She knew everything that he would say before he said it--all except the salary! That was certainly more than Miss Flynn had ever had! And to begin with! There was only one idea in her head. How soon could she fly to a telephone to tell Lester the good news. She could never wait till she went home that evening. She loved Lester for her certainty that it would make him as happy as she was, that he would not feel jealous or hateful. How _good_ Lester was! She saw on the faces of the two people opposite her a reflection of what must be on her own. They understood what the moment was to her. And to them too. She felt in their voices as they talked to her a new relationship towards her, a new respect. They needed her as she needed them. She was important to them and their splendid work. It was wonderful to be really useful in a big thing! “Yes, indeed, Mrs. Willing!” she assented with all her heart, as the younger woman said, “We feel that you can understand our position. It is not just a store to us, you see. It is our Life Work.” This seemed a little flamboyant and feminine to Mr. Willing, who said correctively, “We think it rather a remarkable opportunity, all things considered, for giving good store service. With the support the store would naturally get from the town and the farming region around us, we expect,” he coughed, “we hope to double the business before so very many years.” “Oh, more than that!” cried his wife. “Of course this is confidential, Mrs. Knapp. We wouldn’t want it to go any further. But since we think of you as in on the ground floor with us.... If with Mr. Willing’s poor old uncle’s rusty machinery the store actually paid expenses, there’s simply no telling what can be done with a modern organization such as my husband has worked out in his mind. Better wages, lower prices, and what merchandise!” “My idea of _good_ merchandise, Mrs. Knapp,” said Mr. Willing seriously, “is that it shall be a liberal education in taste.” Mrs. Willing put in spiritedly, “Give us ten years’ time and see if the Saturday evening crowds don’t look different in this town. The clothes they wear now must give them an inferiority-complex right down to the marrow of their bones!”