LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1694, 25 July 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THAT CLERK, ‘ Only think of that 1 A clerk 1 A saleswoman. It seems to me J’d have worked my Ungers to the bene in some other way before I would come to that,’ said I.izz’e Doyle, going to the mirror and re-adjusting a 20do1. hat.

‘So would I. But then, what could she do ?’

1 At least she might make herself a little lees public If there’s anything I despise. It’s these saleswomen.’ *Sodo I. How much better it would have been to have gone into dress-making or millinery, or some-hing of that sort. But to stand behind the counter like a man 1’

‘Papa always did like those Stanleys,’ ta’d Lizzie Doyle, petnlently. * Yes, we always liked them enough until Mr Stanley failed, didn’t we ?' ‘ No, not I, for one, Laura was always so independent in her notions. Don’t yon remember how bard she studied at school ? It does seem as if she foresaw her father’s failure.’

‘ I wonder she didn’t try some better position then. She is certainly capable of being something better than a shop girl.’ ‘ Oh, I believe ptpa intends to promote her when Mr Joberly goes west. She will then take Joberly’s place as a junior book keeper. Think of that for a woman.’

‘ That would be better than selling goods. I don’t sea how she can do that with her refined tastes. Why d dn’t she give lessons, I wonder ? It might not bring her in so much money, but it would be a deal nicer.’

1 Yes, and then we could recognise her,’ said Lizzie Doyle. ‘ That’s what I was coming to, ’ was the reply of her companion, a small tallow-faced girl, elaborately trimmed and flounced.

‘ How are we to treat her now ? We have been great friends, you know; that is, when she was in onr set,’ she added seeing Lizzie’s brow darken.

‘ I'll tell you how I shall treat her,’ responded Lizzie, slowly drawing on a pair of perfumed three-bn!toned kid gloves; ‘ precisely as I treat all of p ;pa's clerks. And I sheu’d like to B;e any of them presume.’

‘ Ob, but Laura won’t presume. You needn’t be afraid of that. She’s too proud.’ * But how can you help it when you go to the same church ? She sits so near ns, you know.’ ‘Of course she’ll give up the pew. She can’t afford that.’

* That is precisely what she does not mean to do. I heard her say the family ramt economise somewhere else and keep tho pew. Her mother is hard of hearing, and conit not enjoy tho services faitber back. The children, too. must go to church. That is the last thing, she said, one ought to give up. I heard her say this to yonr father last Saturday.’ ‘ How provoking,’ said Lizzie impatiently. ‘ She will always be in our faces. But I shall have nothing to do with her. I know what it is for, the artful minx I—it’s to be near us. She knows she has got into papa’s good graces ; and Al, too, admires her. She is very plain.’ ‘ Laura is no beauty,’ was the reply, ‘ but I don’t think she is very plain, 6ho ccitsinly has lowered herself, though, by going into a store.’ And thereupon tho two girls went out for their walk.

It was near twilight of that day when Laura Stanley walked briskly homo and entered the next two-storey house to which her mother had lately removed such of her household effects as had been spared by tho auctioneer.

* This is really pleasant,’ she said, sinking into a chair that had been drawn near the glowing grate. ‘ I had no idea, mother, that you would so soon make the house seem so homelike.’

‘ Are you very tired, my dear ?’ asked her mother, a refined looking woman, as sho helped her daughtei take off her hat and cloak.

‘ Bather, but I like the business; it’s a fine place for the study of character.’ 1 I wish you bad chosen something else, my dear.’ ‘ I don’t wish so,’said Laura. ‘There is nothing else that would have brought me a good salary at onoe. I used to wonder what a certain person would be to me if I were not the rich Mr Stanley’s daughter, and now I know. It’s a knowledge worth gaining.’ ‘Do you meet with any person you are acquainted with V asked her mother ‘ Oh, yes ; and it’s amusing when they come upon me suddenly. 0 I—it’s really!— is this Miss Stanley? And sometimes up go the eyeglasses. Then I feel—well, as if I could freeze somebody, if I could, for a minute Others see me and make believe they are examining goods ; so absorbed are they that they go clear by without looking np, and pass out in the same way. But such sights [don’t trouble me. I find out how much true friendship is worth, and who, out of all the seeming ladies I have been in the habit of meeting, are true and who are false.’

• Then yon meet some that are tin s?’ ‘Yes, Indeed; Judge Agate’s wife, who always seemed so prond and distant, came up to me with a glowing face, and fairly congratulated me. She did it flike a lady, too, and like a friend. There was nothing patronizing about her. And there are several others to whom my position makes no difference. They prize me for what I am. Tet what a price to pay for learning the value of true friendship!’added Laura with a deep sigh. ‘ I met Aggie Doyle, to-day, and she wouldn’t speak to me, ’ said Alice, Laura’s sister, who had come into the room and overheard the remark.

‘ Why she should not speak to me, I wonder ?’

‘ Because your sister is a clerk in her father's store,’ said Laura somewhat bitterly. 1 That’s no reason why she should treat me so,’ the child replied. ‘Of course it isn’t, nor is it any reason why Lizzie, her eldest sister, should treat me. I like her so much, too. But to-day she came into the store and passed me with such a glance after I had prepared a smile and a welcome for her. Mr Doyle has baeu so kind since papa’s death that I looked for better treatment from Lizzie. That, I confess, wounded me, and I shall meet her so often! But nevermind. I must remember my place,’ she added. 1 1 have to work for my living now—bnt I will be proud of it! Good by, old lazy ease ! Good by, pleasure! Good by, old worthless friends! Your coldness cannot hurt the real mo : it is only the worthless young lady of fashion who feola it, and she is slowly departing this 0 " ######

‘Have you filled all your invitations?’ asked Lizzie’s eldest brother, one of the firm of Doyle and Co., some days after the pro ceding conversation took place, Lizzie was arranging a hundred or more of tiny, cream-colored envelopes, which she had tied together with some pretty, biight-hued ribbon. * I believe so,’ she replied, with a imile. ‘ I have asked every young lady of my acquaintance, and I think our party will be the best of the season if p?-pa will have the carx>sts taken up in the west rooms and the 11 ,ors chalked. Kutger will do them for fifty dollars, and you have no idea how beautiful ho works.’

1 ‘ 1 think father will not refuse that/ her brother replied. ‘l’ll apeak to him.’ ‘ Thank you, brother Al. Then lam sure ho will hare it done. I have asked him for so much that I was almost a r raid to ask for more. ’ ‘ By-the-by, have you invited Miss Laura Stanley V her brother askod as ho was going cut.

* Of course not V said Lizzie. ‘ And pray, why not ?’ he askod, standing still. * Why, Al, what an idea ! She wouldn’t expect it. Our shopgirl—father's clerk; I wouldn't have her for the world!’ ‘ Then if you arc sure she would not coma you might have sent her an invitation out of compliment/ her brother replied. * I don’t consider her an acquaintance/ said L ! zzie, and Al walked ont of the room with a shrug of the shoulders. Presently her father came in, * Lizzie/he said, * I particularly wish yon to send a note of invitation to Miss Stanley.’ ‘Papa, you don’t mean it!’ exclaimed Lizzie, chagrined. * Indeed Ido mean it. What! slight the daughter of one of my most cherished friends, because she has come down in the world in a money point of view ? I should despise myself for it.’ ‘ Bat papa, she won’t come,’ said Lizzie ‘ Nerer_ mind whether she will or not Write an invitation ; I’ll take it to her/ She sat down, pale and angry, to write a note. After all her boasting of having ‘cut the Stanleys/ it was very hardte be obliged to invite Laura. Her checks grew hot as she indited the polite little missive, while she remembered the many times she had ignored her to whom it was addressed. She could have disobeyed had she dared, would even have withheld the note after written, had her father not stood by to take it. Later her brother Al cams to her * I should like an invitation, Lizzie, for a young lady of my acquaintance,’ he said in a quiet voice

‘ Who is she ?’ ‘ The young lady whom I have asked to be my wife, he said smiling. ‘ Oh, Al, of course you shall have it. lam to have a sister, ithen ? I’m so'glad. What is her name ? Will she be sure to come ? I’m sure I can’t think of any one.’ And then she paused, puzzled at his shrewd smile * Do I know her T’ she asked, ‘You used to/ he answered, ‘lt is Miss Laura Stanley.’ 1 Oh, Al!’ she sank down, covering her face with her hands, * I was afraid she might feel the slight so keenly/ he said softly, ‘ that I hurried matters a little. So you need not be afraid now that she will not come. You will prepare an invitation ?’ ‘ I have. Papa has carried it to her. But oh, Al, a clerk !’ ‘ A truly noble woman/ said her brother, ‘ who dares face the sneers of “her sot,” end take an honest position for the sake of those who are dependant upon her, rather than whine about her former d’gnity, and live upon charity. I wish there were more like her/ So Lizzie was forced, for once In her life, to eat hnmble pie.