THE CHRISTMAS SALESWOMAN

Auckland Star, Volume LIII, Issue 3, 5 January 1922, Page 7

THE CHRISTMAS SALESWOMAN

» (By MAOXJE BARLOW.) "Say, sonny, who is thai girl over yonder beside toe pile of mistletoe? - ' Annoyed at beirtg addressed as sonny, the dapper gentleman from the silk counter eyed the man in the rough tweed suit resentfully. He had seen him all forcnoou working at the electrical fittings in Denham's fashionable, West Knd store, and exciting the curiosity and admiration of Denham's young ladies with his handsome bronzed face and athletic frame. Being himself a pallid weed, the gentleman from the silks felt he had a double grievance. '"Don't know," he answered, grumpily. •'One of our extra hands engaged for Christmas. Xr —hadn't you better attend to your job, young fellow?" "'All work arid no play makes Jack a dull boy," said the electrician, his brown eyes wells of laughter. He took the shortest cult to tbe mistletoe, and the girl watched his coming in a cool, detached fashion, and was surprised when lie merely stood to talk. "Business .brisk?" he queried. "It's 'been pretty slow," she replied, "but tlie afternoon and evening may bo busier." "Like doing this ?" for a change." "Ho you belong to another departmeiit?" "Oh. no. I'm only engaged for the rush, a temporary mistletoe saleswoman. There are half a dozen of US helping with the Christmas stiilf." 'It's hard lines he.ving to stand constantly. Shouldn't you have a chair? Seem to be pleuty about. I'll feteh —" "You'll do nothing of the kind," she interrupted. "Chair, indeed! Want to get mc sacked?" "Arc they such brutes?" "This isn't a beauty parlour," she reminded him. "It's a wholesale and retail 'business, and Denham's are as considerate employers as you'll find anywhere " "So they ought. They've made their pile out of the public and their faith fid servants. Merchant princes, aren't they? And the chief got a title lately. Saw what on earth did they give it him for?'* The brown eyes laughed again, and the girl laughed too, despite a severe hint that he was cumbering the floor space. ".May 1 ask a final question?" he implored. "You've asked so one more can t matter much.' "Then what is your name, Mistletoe Girl?" "My name," hesitatingly, "is Pally jßrown." "A thousand thanks. Mine is Jimmy Jones." "How euphoniiisl" slw? murmured, 'blandly. "But I'd prefer to lie called James, if you don't mind." "YouT.l 'be eauljed something a Jot worse than either unless you quit attracting general attention to this corner. Arc you supposed to 'be doing anything in particular here?" "•Several of the wires fused last night, pfid I'm fixinv them. Nobody else could lie got owing to the electricians' strike. "Thcv'll accuse you of being a blackleg." He shrugged his shoulders. "Let them. I'm libt bothering." "You should stand up for your class," indignantly. "I've knocked around the world a good deal," he rcpiicd, "and class distinctions leave mc cold.'" "Well. I'd stick to my own through thick and thin." "In YOU the principle is admirable. May 1 hope yol.T own will henceforth include mc?" p Sally tiked a haughty chin. "Mistletoe, sir?" she sard to an immaculately groomed man who had halted to stare through his monocle at her and her companion. dallies yearned to assault him, but thought better of it, and retired to a point of vantage which enabled him to keep them under observation. The customer possessed an unmistakable air of breeding, the cut and style of his clothes were faultless, he w-ore an orchid in his 'buttonhole, and he conversed freely with Sally, moving a step backward if other purchasers appeared, resuming his place as they went on. The girl seemed to be vain of his j preference for her corner. She chatted . animately, turning the battery of her smiles u|>on him. The gentleman from the silks sidled close to James. "Nose out of joint?" he grinned. "Kh ?" "She didn't waste her gush on you. Cave you the frozen mit the minute a gilt-edged tot! pushed himself in to flirt. That's the lion. Percy IVntwhistle. multiple newspaper proprietor and reputed millionaire. Perhaps you ain't mighty small beer compared with him. Oh dear no!" the grin broadening. "Take my tip, young fellow-me-lad, and always trust red hair and green eyes to look sharp after the money dudes." Before a threatening advance Silks beat an undignified retreat, but left a sting behind. It was a dark-browed James who lifted his tools and walked upstairs and along a carpeted passage to the private room of Sir Wilfred Denham. "May I come in, sir?" he inquired, opening tbe door. A cheery voice assented. The Chief greeted hin> pleasantly, and was relieved to learn that he had completed his job. •'lt wasn't a difficult job," the young man said, modestly. "I have been jaek-of-all-trades." Sir Wilfred beamed approval. "Nothing like a practical education, James." "Australia teaches us to use both hands and head. air. We've scant regard for lily-white fingers yonder. I notice the spring of your blind's a bit crocky. Let mc operate on it. I can't see things yelling for help and keep still." He went over to the window, and between taps of a small hammer sandwiched a few queries. He was surely liorn inquisitive. "Do you know the Hon. Pentwhistlc, sir?" "Percy Pentwhistle? Yes. of course. He's a newspaper magnate, persona grata in the best circles, and universally popular." "Ts be married?" "He soon will be. to a Miss Eunice Marsh, daughter of the late Colonel Mash." '"You are certain he means lo marry Miss Marsh?' "Positive. It's a real low match, and the date is announced for January. "Why, my boy?" "I saw him downstairs, and was told his name, that's all." "What was he doing downstairs?" "Talking to a salesgirl." "He's a customer of ours, and we, in return, give him the bulk of our advertisements." James sang dumb a while. Wben he ! had rid the blind of its orockiness he

crossed to the Ghieif s desk. "Any : (ignring 1 can relieve you of?" he aefced. "No, boy," replied Sir Wilfred, smiling genially. "1 dkln't fetch you from the ; Antipodes to thrust you into harness right away. You've done us a service to-day. Now run off and enjoy yourself. You haven't seen the sights of London yet. When 1 have presented you to out board of directors and OUT staff you shall be my mainstay, I promise you I'll make full use of your brains and energy. You shan't complain of lack of employment." Thus affectionately dismissed, -lames passed through the warehouse on his outward journey. Miss Brown's pile of mistletoe had diminished and her vivacity increased. Gravely, and with colonial directness, he took her to task. "I was sorry you chummed up with that tailor's dummy," he said, and her greenish-grey orbs opened widely. "Which tailor's dummy?" "Tnc chap with the e3-eglass, called Pentwhistlc." "1 wasn't aware that his eyeglass was called Pentwhistlc." "Don't you be saucy, Miss Sally. You llirtcd." "Did I?" "Yon just did. And he's going to be married." She tossed her fluffy head. "No affair of mine if he is." "it is, in so far that you shouldn't allow an engaged man of his position to pay you attentions which are only sport to him. but to you may bring sorrow. He was too familiar. If you were my —my sister I'd jolly well punch him for it. and for that ugly orchid of has pinned on your breast." "He offered it to mc. and the rest of the "iris are wildly jealous." she explained, dimpling mischievously. lie compressed his lips. "Guess you must llirt or die," he said, his stern ffoze 'bringing a fierce scarlet to her oheeks. "In that case, couldn't you reject the Honourable Percy in "my favour, and for a start share"my lunch? You'd find mc safer, provided an honest working electrician isn't beneath your notice, and my clothes are decent enough to keep you from feeling ashamed of mc." She was donning her hat and a shabby wrap coat. The fierincss of her face angered her and barbed her tongue. ' "Are you trying to lie funny, or merely rude';" "Neither. lam trying to oust Pentwhistle." She didn't take kindly to scolding. The light of battle leaped to her eyes." She withered him with the glance' of a disdainful duchess. "\ou Hatter yourself if you imagine lhat you or your clothes cost mc a second thought," she answered, and a crushed James stood aside to let her sweep by. He had gone when she returned; the electrical apparatus caused no further inconvenience, and Sally, subdued and repentant, prayed for something to happen to restore him to a scene that was stripped of its frlamour —prayed quite unave.ilingly. She moped, grew tearful I and irritable, knew it was ridiculous to behave so because of an utter stranger, yet could not banish her depression. The week of her stay dragged like an eternity. Pentwhistlc paid daily visits, and she was glad of the distraction; but her live'iness was eclipsed, and he remarked her pallor. On the evening of the 23rd he strolled round to her corner, tendeny solicitous. "Sick of the humdrum grind?" he murmured. She nodded, her mouth puckered. "Bead}- to stop?" ' I'd stop now for tuppence." she said, wearily. "Why don't you. girlie?" "I —TIL wait till the shop shuts." She cherished a lingering hope that the i.wner of a pair of haunting brown eyes would seek her before the shutters went up. but nl<rht brought him not, and Sally deserted Denham's. Next morning James arrived, his buliiness vanquished, and a new face cmilronted him. Aghast, he listened to Ihe tale of Misn Brown's nastiness in leaving them in the lurch on Christmas I've. Her successor had no knowledge of the perfidious Miss Brown's reason or her whereabouts. Nobody had, none could tell him anything of Sally. except the trick she had played the firm, and the peculiar fact that she had omitted to draw her wages. Blank despair seized him. The world was emptied of all joy. At 11 p.m. he emerged from a Piccadilly club of which Sir Wilfred was a member. .Dry. bracing weather, a keen snap of frost, and a promise of snow added to the high snirits of the crowd thronging every thoroughfare. The arc lamps of a theatre opposite helped to make the brilliantly lit street almost as clear as day. In the white shining liuht a luxurious motor standing at a florist's near the club was an object that focussed his attention. A lady sal in if. leaning forward to study the gorgeous window display, her face rising flower-like out of swathings of rich fur. Her motoring bonnet and fluttering veil were the last word in smartne-s. and she snuggled her little chin into the soft warmth of a big sable muff. His glance strayed from the splendid fittings of the car to* its occupant, and was riveted. His heart pounded against his ribs. He clenched his hands, turned grey under his tan. and for a hideous minute felt physically weak and ill. Out of the florist's came Pentwhistlc. an assistant behind him carrying a basket of choice flowers and fruit, which he deposited in the motor. Tlie Honourable Percy seated himself beside the lady, and she spoke to him merrily, with what seemed a reckless gaiety." Then the car dashed past, James staring after it as if stricken to stone. Sally and Pentwhistlc! Sally. the poor, pretty vendor of mistletoe, in that man's Daimler, fur-clad and radiant, pertly at ease, horribly intimate! The lines of his jaw hardened. He would rather have seen her pass in her coffin. To that chapter of his first romance. finisher ere it had well begun, he applied the concluding Finis. The "Daily Hustler." a Pentwhistlc publication, is usually sauce piquante to the palate of the jaded newspaper reader, but perhaps the langour which follows Christmas festivities accounted for the bored way James scanned its pages. On the point of throwing "itdown he uttered an amazed ejaculation, and began to read with avidity a column-length article. Having read it he breathed gustily, and sprang to his feet to get a telephone directory and search for a number. He had trouble obtaining the desired connection, and twice as much in wringing from the "Hustler" editor a crumb of information, but he stuck to his purpose, firmly insistent. "I speak on behalf of Denham. Ltd.. and I must know who is the author of the article in to-day's issue on 'The Humours of Selling Mistletoe.' " "Who are you?" barked the worried editor. s

"Sir Wilfred Denham's nephew." I "Had no idea Sir Wilfred boasted a , nephew. Anyhow, the article does Den-1 ham no harm. The author is Miss Marsh, a society debutante ambitious to flourish her pen. and having a strong pull with parties in authority. I had to yield to the pull, and as a trial test got her to answer an ad. of yours, procure a temporary post under an assumed name, and write her valuable experiences. It wan a journalistic stunt arranged by mc. The stuff's third-rate. Miss Marsh hasn't the flair for journalism." "I think it's awfully clever," said James, heatedly. . , "Do you?" grimly. "I think its luck she hasn't to "earn fcer bread and butter by her literary gifts. Pent--whistle should have had more sense than to encourage her, but he's naturally |>iased. 'Nuff said. Oood-day." James dropped on a chair, stunned. There was no Sally Brown. Sally of the flame red hair was Mies Marsh, Pentwhistle's fiancee, masquerading in quest of copy as a salesgirl. There had been no' dangerous flirtation, no pitfall dug for an unwary child of the people, nothing to groan, about in the fine raiment and tbe motor ride. Pentwhistle and the furs and fripperies were hers by right of ownership. He had been a fool, but an excusable, pitiable fool. Doubtless he. in his rough garb, had been a source of amusement to the society girl toying with the serious business of life. And, still, she had not jeered in that article. He recognised references to himself, and was fain to admit that Sally had handled him delicately, sympathetically. His head sank on hie folded arms. He swallowed a choking lump in his throat. Love had come to him unsought, swift as the lightning flash f«om summer skies, and he was young: and youth is appalled to find that the rose of love is often set about with cruel thorns. Early in January he heard of the marriage of Kunice Marsh, but would not look at papers containing an account of the quiet ceremony. His wound was too raw. She and her husband went on a Continental honeymoon, and Sir Wilfred, noting his once-blithe nephew's listlessness, promptly took him into the firm, introducing him publicly at a dinner given to the staff aftd personal friends. Those of the employees who remembered him were astonished, and the only one who had no appetite and forgot to cheer was a dapper gentleman from the silks. '"To meet the Honourable Percy and Mrs. Pcntwhistle." James xmnttered the formula despairingly, quoting a card of invitation to a reception in honour of the bride and bridegroom, for which he was dressing a* if for instant execution. He wished he had a solid excuse for backing out of the ordeal. Half an hour later he and his uncle w-ere perspiring units in the packed double drawing-room of their hostess, •wife of a financier with parliamentary aspirations and an eye to Pentwhistle's support. Tbe latter was close to her. so were the Denhams, and James was duly presented to the man of power, drudgingly he acknowledged the charm of his winning personality. "I want you to know my wife." said Pentwhistlc. casting .a proud glance across their heads, and beckoning. "Eunice, you really ought to make the acquaintance of Sir Wilfred Denham and hie nephew. Mr. James Harley Denham. from Australia. I believe Mr. James has been in our midst incognito quite a time." Anguish blinding him. James bowed, not (seeing to whom, his tongue clinging to the roof of him dry mouth. ?ir Wilfred's ready flow of small talk sounded like an unintelligible buzz. Then a silvery voice replied, an unfamiliar voice, which compelled .lame! to dart a quick, panicky glance at the bride.

His brain swam. Kunice was tall and i dark-haired, a funoesque beauty, the j antithesis of Sally. | YVa6 he {joins crazy? The earthy odours of massed spring blossoms and the stifling atmnsphire combined to grip and suffocate him. He could not conquer his agitation, and Eunice, seeing it, with truest breeding diverted her husband's attention and Pir Wilfred's until he was able to join coherently in the conversation. The entrance of a famous ;vma donna who had graciously consented to sing for a considerable fee created a stir, ' and a general breaking up of groups. ; which afforded him an opportunity to \ whisper to the dark beauty- I "'Mrs. Pentwhistlc. pardon mc. Did ; you write an article in the 'Daily \ Hustler' last Christmas on 'The j Humours of Selling Mistletoe'?" ! She regarded him quizzically. | "1 plead not guilty. Mr. Denham." ! "'Heavens'. I'm 'floundering deeper \ and deeper in a moras-6 of perplexity. : "You couldn't have, for you weren't ; there—where it happned—but the editor said you were, though I know . better. And unless ?ally " A gleam of intelligence dawned in her puzzled eye*. "Hold!" she exe'aimed. beginning to laugh. 'Are you by any chance an amateur electrician T" "I am." "Then wait. I see light."' Kunice threaded a passage to the i lower end of the room, and led back a ! protesting maiden with a green filet in j her ruddy hair, matching her sash rib-| bon. The remainder of her was frothy. ' frilly, lacy whiteness, to her silk stock- ■ ings and French shoes. ; "I fancy you are referring to tnv little sister. Sarah Marsh." said beamingEunice. "She is the author of the , article you mention, and she has vowed a 60lemn vow that nothing shall induce ' her to write another, which shows her wisdom."

"Sally!" he gasped. '"You!" gasped Sally. There was a speechicss interval. "Your wonderful workman is -Tame* Harley Denham, Sir Wilfred's nephew. Sis," said Eunice, pinching the blushing cheek. "You can't deny that my ears have heard of him. I'll leave you and him to your own devices and go and I tell Percy. He doesn't apoear to ■•■>■ -« I oaujrht on, though maybe he's pretending." Heedless of a frantic sisterly clutch. , she left them. Sally pouted, endeavoured to frown, and let her face slip when she should have held it taut. "•Tames Harley Denham," she said, wagging an admonitory forefinger, "you can tell some thumping whoppers." "Same to you," he chuckled. He | bent over her, his brown eyes dancing his expression rapturous. "Come away from this to a quiet nook," he implored. "Oh. Mistletoe Girl, dear Lost andFound, if you love mc as I love you. guide mc to a peaceful spot, where prima ' donnas vex not." "Impertinent as ever!" she retorted. "I shan't be able to endure you five minutes, but-.—"—the dimples playing hide-and-seek in the provoking face of her—"hut there's a lovely quiet place out in the corridor."