"Will you send word to her, Mary? I think this sort of work will be better for her than the sewing, and we'll talk about the salary when she comes over."

"She'll be a mighty lucky girl just to _get_ here, salary or _no_ salary!" was Mary's positive reply. "If you don't mind I'll run down home this afternoon and tell her to come early to-morrow morning. I'll have all this batch made, and the rest can wait until the morning; we've got a good lot ahead already." Mary's eagerness manifested itself in her every action, and Constance nodded a cheerful approval as she laid down her big knife and turned to leave the kitchen.

"Go ahead, partner, but I must be off now."

"So the business is expanding?" exclaimed Mr. Porter, heartily, when Constance had explained to him her wish to rent an arch for her Christmas trade. "Good! I knew it would. Couldn't possibly help it with such candy as that to back it up. But mind, you are not to forget my Christmas order in all your bustle and hurry for other people. Twenty pounds--"

"What!" cried Constance, aghast at the recklessness of her oldest customer.

"Now, that will do, young lady. Will you please answer me this! Why must I always be looked upon as a mild sort of lunatic when I give you an order? 'Twas ever thus! Why, you hooted my first order, and you have kept on hooting every single one since. I wonder I haven't transferred my patronage long since. Trouble is you realize where you have me cornered. You know I can't duplicate those candies anywhere. Now come along with me and let us arrange for the new quarters which are to replace the outgrown ones, and-mark my word-this business will never again contract to the old s.p.a.ce. This is where my business ac.u.men shows itself. Once I've got you into the bigger stand, and the rent into my coffers, I mean to keep you there, even if I have to get out and drum up the extra trade to meet the extra outlay. Co-operation."

Constance was too accustomed to this good friend's nonsense to see anything but the deepest interest for her welfare underlying it. She knew that, with all his seeming badinage, he was looking further ahead than she, with her still limited experience, even after four years in her little business world, could look, for her's, while exceptional for her years and s.e.x, could never match that of this man of the great, active business world. But if Mr. Porter was far-seeing in some directions, in others he was short-sighted, and his range of vision was to be broadened by one who dwelt in a far humbler walk of life-Mammy Blairsdale.

Upon this particular morning Mammy had elected to drive in state to South Riveredge, ostensibly to cast a critical eye over the Blairsdale-Devon Lunch Counter, but in reality to convey to it a very special dainty for her pet customer-Hadyn Stuyvesant.

In addition to a few hundred other side issues to her business, Mammy had raised poultry during the previous summer, and, curiously enough, to every chick hatched out, there had pecked themselves into the world about four roosters, until poor Mammy began to believe her setting eggs must have had a spell cast upon them. As the summer advanced such an array of lordly, strutting, squawking young c.o.c.ks never dominated a poultry yard, and the sequel was inevitable. When they arrived at the _crowing age_ the neighbors arose in revolt! Such a vociferous, discordant collection of birds had never fought and crowed themselves into public notice. Mammy became almost distracted, and was at her wits'

end until a diplomatic move struck her: those roosters should win not only fame for themselves, but for their owner also; and not long afterward first one neighbor then another was mollified and highly flattered to receive a fine daintily broiled, fried, or roasted young bird, cooked as only Mammy knew how to cook a fowl, garnished as only Mammy knew how to garnish, and accompanied by a respectful note, _not_ written by Mammy, but by Jean, somewhat in this strain:

"Will Mrs. -- please accept this dish with the most respectful compliments of Mammy Blairsdale, who _hopes_ this noisy rooster will never disturb her any more?"

Oh, "sop to Cerberus!" Could diplomacy go further?

It was one of the most vociferous of her flock which now lay upon his lordly back, his legs pathetically turned to the skies, his fighting and his squaking days ended forever, that reposed in Mammy's warming can, to be transferred to Charles' warming oven, there to await Hadyn's arrival.

As Constance and Mr. Porter drew near the lunch counter, Mammy was giving very explicit directions to Charles. Constance and Mr. Porter were too occupied to be aware of her presence; not she of theirs, however.

Mr. Porter conducted Constance to the arch next but one to that in which the lunch counter stood, only separated from it by the cigar stand.

"Now here is a s.p.a.ce which you can have as well as not, and it is close enough to Charles for him to cast an eye over it from time to time."

"And may I rent it for one month?" asked Constance.

"Better rent it for one year," urged Mr. Porter. "It's in a mighty good location."

"And _I_ call it a mighty _po'_ location," broke in an emphatic voice.

"A _mighty_ po' one, and no kynd ob a place fo' one ob ma chillen fer to be at. _Gobblin_ men-folks hyar at de lunch stan'; _smokin'_ men-folks at de nex' one; an' we kin bress Gawd ef we don't fin' oursefs wid _guzzlin_ men-folks on yonder at de tother side befo' long."

"Now, now! Hold on, Mammy! Go slow," broke in Mr. Porter, laughingly.

"You know the Arcade doesn't stand for _that_ sort of thing. Don't hit us so hard."

"How I gwine know what it boun' ter stan' fer if _it_ lak ter stan' fer lettin' dat chile rint a counter nex' door to a segar stan'?" snapped Mammy, her eyes fixed upon the luckless superintendent, personifying the strongly emphasized _it_.

"Well, it's lucky we found you here. Now, we never took _that_ side of the question into consideration, did we, little girl? Yes, I guess Mammy's judgment beats ours. Great head! So come on, Mammy, and let us have your sound advice in this choice of bigger quarters for Miss Constance. You see, _I_ predict that she will never return to the smaller ones again."

"Don't need no gre't secon'-sight fer ter make _dat_ out, I reckon," was the superior retort.

Mr. Porter looked crushed and then dropped behind Mammy, who went sailing majestically down the Arcade, to stop at the very first and most pretentious of all the Arches-one which had been rented until very recently by a stationer, who had profited so handsomely that he had built a large shop not far from the Arcade, and now wished to sub-let this arch until his lease expired. Next to it was a florist's stand, and opposite a stationer's, each of a very high order. Constance stood aghast at Mammy's audacity.

"Why, Mammy, this is the highest-priced arch in the Arcade," she exclaimed.

"Well, what _dat_ got ter do wid it, Baby? Ain't your candy _de highest-priced candy_? _An' ain' you de very high-water mark quality?_ Who gwine ter 'spute dat? Go 'long an' rint yo' place; yo' all matches p'intedly," and with this speech Mammy stalked back to her own quarters.

Constance gave one look at Mr. Porter, then sank upon one of the little benches within the arch.

"By George, she's right and I'm a blockhead! Think I'd better turn over my job to her and go down into the engine-room until I learn to read human nature as _she_ can. Yes, it is the finest, highest-priced arch in the building, but it didn't take that old black woman five seconds to discover the match for it."

"But, Mr. Porter," protested Constance, "of all the extravagant steps, and for Mammy, above all others, to urge it. That conservative creature!

And the way she expressed it! _Why_ was I born a Blairsdale? It will shorten my years, I know, to have to live up to the name," and Constance broke into a merry laugh.

"Perhaps the burden will be lifted before long, and such a calamity to your friends averted," answered Mr. Porter, soberly, but with twinkling eyes. The one o'clock whistle had just blown in a building hard by, and the Arcade's elevator was beginning to bring down the people from the floors above. Among them was Hadyn Stuyvesant, who went at once to the luncheon counter, quite unaware of the presence of a certain little lady near the entrance of the Arcade; but her back was toward the elevator.

For one second she glanced at Mr. Porter entirely innocent of the purport of his words. Then, catching sight of the mischievous eyes twinkling at her, she rose suddenly to her feet, saying: "Come at once and let me learn what this rash step will cost me."

With a low laugh Mr. Porter strode toward his office beside a very rosy-cheeked young girl.

CHAPTER VIII

VAULTING AMBITIONS.

In the course of a few days Constance's new quarters in the Arcade were in operation, for Mr. Porter lost no time in fitting up Arch Number One.

The little booth beneath the stairs was dismantled to furnish forth the new one. Down at the kitchen Mary and her sister f.a.n.n.y, who had come to a.s.sist in the work, were doing their best to keep abreast of the orders pouring in with each mail, while Mrs. Carruth, her ambitions at length achieved, was attending to the correspondence, since Constance's time must for a little while be given to the new booth. She had not received a reply to her letter to Kitty Sniffins, and for the time being was too occupied with the demands of the new booth to take further steps in the matter. Indeed, she had about made up her mind to look for someone else, once order was brought out of the confusion of moving and settling, for some indefinable instinct caused her to feel an aversion to engaging Kitty Sniffins. Had she been asked to state why, she would have found it difficult to put her objection into actual words, and more than once she reproached herself for entertaining it at all. Nevertheless, she could not free herself from it, but was too busy just then to dwell upon it.

In the course of a few days everything would be settled and in running order; and meanwhile she, herself, would go to the Arcade each day where, with Charles as her Majordomo, body-guard and faithful friend, she was a veritable queen of her little realm, and woe betide the individual so reckless as to forget that he or she was in the presence of a Blairsdale.

The pretty Arch had been in perfect running order for one week when Constance began to cast about for someone to take her place, since neither she herself, nor her family felt content to have her make the journey to and from South Riveredge each day, or to spend her time at the Arch. On the previous Sat.u.r.day she had put a carefully-worded advertis.e.m.e.nt in the _Riveredge Times_, the answers to be sent to Arch No. 1, Arcade Building; and upon her arrival at her Arch on this Monday morning she found dozens of letters from girls, and even men, asking employment. She was reading one of the letters when a shadow fell across the page, and raising her eyes she saw a young man standing at the counter. Thinking he had come to purchase a box of candy, she rose from her chair and stood waiting for him to make his wants known to her.

Instead of doing so, he raised his hat, and with a most impressive bend of his long, loosely-hung figure, and a smile which irritated her by its self-complacency, said:

"How are you, Miss Carruth? You're sure putting up a big show here, ain't you?"

"What can I do for you?" asked Constance, with quiet dignity.

"Guess you can't do nothing for _me_, but maybe I can do something for _you_. Candy ain't in my line. Never spent none o' my solid cash for the stuff, but I'm glad other people do; plenty of fools in this world to help wise folks get rich, ain't there?"

"Will you please state your business?" and Constance took up another letter as a hint to her unwelcome visitor that her time, if not his, was of some value.

"Got a pile o' answers, ain't you? That's just what I thought, and it's just what brought me down here this early. This letter come for Kitty in my care 'most a week ago, but she's down in the city doin' somethin' or 'nother; don't 'mount to much, I guess, though. I knew she hadn't no friends up yonder in swell Riveredge, and when I saw your ad. in the _Riveredge Times_ it didn't take me no time to put two and two together.

Oh, I'm fly, I am! I knowed-_knew_-the postmark meant something about that candy kitchen, 'cause Mary Willing and Kit used to be school pals, and I guessed you was a-lookin' for more help, and I don't often guess wrong, neither. I sent a telegraph to Kit to come on home this mornin'

to see you, but I weren't goin' to take any chances, so I come right up to clench the job for her."

"Then I a.s.sume that you are Miss Sniffins' brother. May I ask why you felt so sure that the letter sent to your care was from me, or had anything to do with my need of more help in this business?"

The smile and wink which prefaced his reply nearly proved the last straw. Quietly reaching below the counter, Constance pressed an electric b.u.t.ton. She had been wise beyond her years when she had this connection made between her Arch and Charles' counter. Sniffins did not notice the motion.

"Well, you see, I'm boss in my own house and run the wimmin-folks. When I suspicioned what the letter was, I just took French leave, so to speak, and opened and read it--"

"What!" The indignation in Constance's tone was a trifle disconcerting even to the thick-skinned Sniffins, and he had the grace to color slightly. But it was only momentary. He rarely forgot Sniffins.