The very names of Epworth League, and prayer meeting made her draw a
long face.
"You don't care whether we see each other or not!" she accused
Dan, hotly.
"I do," he said earnestly, "but it seems like I never have time for
anything. The work at the factory gets heavier all the time. But I'm
getting on, Nance; they give me another raise last month."
"Everybody's getting on," cried Nance bitterly, "but me! You and Ike and
Birdie! I work just as hard as you all do, and I haven't got a blooming
thing to show for it. What I make sewing pants don't pay for what I eat.
Sometimes I think I'll have to go back to the finishing room."
"Not if I can help it!" said Dan, emphatically. "There must be decent
jobs somewhere for girls. Suppose I take you out to Mrs. Purdy's on
Sunday, and see if she knows of anything. She's all the time asking me
about you."
The proposition met with little enthusiasm on Nance's part. It was Mrs.
Purdy who had got Dan into the church and persuaded him not to go to the
theater or learn how to dance. It was Mrs. Purdy who took him home with
her to dinner every Sunday after church and absorbed the time that used
to be hers. But the need for a job was too pressing for Nance to harbor
prejudices. Instead of sewing for the Lavinskis that night, she sewed for
herself, trying to achieve a costume from the old finery bequeathed her
by Birdie Smelts.
You would scarcely have recognized Dan that next Sunday in his best suit,
with his hair plastered down, and a very red tie encircling a very high
collar.
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