A ROMANCE OF THE OFFICE.

Press, Volume LXIII, Issue 12971, 26 November 1907, Page 3

A ROMANCE OF THE OFFICE.

By Thomas Powili.. , There weren't many prettier stenographers than Lucy Raindon to be seen in the city-Lucy, neatly and tastefully dressed, gold brown hair, a pair of pathetic, big blue eves, and the daintieet little square-set chin that ever hinted that it wasn't advisable to stir her to anger. As for Donald Hayes, he fell madly in love with her almost at eight, and from the iirst constituted himself her humble slave, sheltering her as much as possible, and telling her all those little things and putting her up to ell thcee little office wrinkles the ignorance of which makes a new place so uncomfortable at the beginning. Now, in that office, as in most offices, there was a manager—Mr Muynard by name—an evil-tempered man who knew his work, but who unfortunately had the mistaken notion that the way to make people efficient was to bully i them. Even Lucy's big blue eyes could not induce him to control his tongue; time and again he spoke to,her-.in c way tliat sailed her proud spirit almost beyond enduranco, ajid caueed Master Donald, «t his desk near by, to clinch his honds and bite his lips. And one morning he turned iip in aji even worse temper than usual, called i Donald a "lazy brute," and then be- I gan to dictate his letters to Lucy at a furious pace. "I beg your pardon," she said at ktet, having vuinly struggled to keep up. "Go on!" he cried. "Don't interrupt." . I "But I can't get it down. You're going too fast for mc," ehe exclaimed. "Confound it all!" he blurted out. j "What sort-of a stenographer do you call yourself P It 's your business to get it down!" "I was doing my best, Mr Maynard," she answered. "Rubbish! , he snorted. "You're incompetent—that's what it is." "It isn't," eaid Lucy defiantly, nettled by hie tone. "I can do a hundred and ten words a minute, as I told you when I came." "You impertinent little minx!" blustered tho manager, getting up angrily from his chair, ''don't answer mc back! If you do, you'll find yourself outside soon!" "That's where you ought to be, you bully!" came in a hard, stern voice from the neighbourhood of Donald's desk. "WhatP" cried the manager, swinging round in furious surprise. "I slid that's where you ought to be, you' bully," repeated Donald calmly. "You've no right to talk to a girl like thajt," he went on, while the manager struggled in vain for speech. "I'm sure the president wouldn't etnnd it, if ho knew. It's a pity Mr Cartw«ight is so old he can't come here more often 3nd look after you!" I "Are you mad—or drunk—you fool !*' * ho stormed; to talk to mc like this?" , ; "Neither," said Donald, still in the ! same low voice, "only utterly disgusted with your ungentlemanly behaviour 1" The manager looked at him, controlled himself by a mighty effort, and said thickly: "All right. Take a week's notije." and turned on his heel. "Come along. Miss Raindon," he added. "Get on with your work. Don't eit there staring like a little fool!" But Lucy, who had sat dumbfounded through this scene, made no effort to take np her pencil again. Proud as ehe was of Donold for championing her cause, nevertheless her little heart was heavy. Had not be lost his place? "Mr Maynard," she Mid conciliating-

]y, "are we not all cross and haerty this morning? Won't you take back the notice yon hare given Mr Hayes?" '"Ccnfound your impudence, no!" the manager snapped. , The little sqttaro chin shot forward c bit. and a sudden gleam came into the big blue eyes. "Mr Maynard." ehe said firmly, "1 really think yon ought to, you know!" "Do you? And what right hare you to dictate to mc, miss? Take a week's notice yourself!" The gleam in the big blue eyes became <i bieze. "Mr Moynard," said Lucy, rising .and facing him, "you hare been abominably rude to mc; and you've had your chance to make amends and thrown it away." And, hastily pinning on her hat—"while the manager watched her 4 vaguely frightened in spite of himself—ehe walked out of the ojfice. Disconsolately Donald went out to luncb. It wos not likely, he knew, that the mannger would change his mind ; for Mr Mnynard was one of those weak obstinates who boast that •what th«y spy they stick to. In a week's time ho would be scanning the advertisements, and tramping all Chicago in 6earch of o. plae*; but it was not that which caused his steps to lag. Ho had no regret 6; to him it seemed impossible that any one worthy of the name of a man could have acted otherwise. His only trouble was that he greatly feared he had lost Lucy! She had walked out of the office in a righteous wrath—and he did not know her address! So far their intercourse had been confined wholly to office life; lip had not dared to speak the words which for weeks had been trembling on hi* lips. And now she was gone—gone for good—and since it was not to be expected that she would write to him first, bis only hope of seeing her ever again was to meet her by chance. But as he entered the restaurant at which they often lunched together, his eyes brightened and the wrinkles fled from his brow as if by magic. There was Lucy sitting at the usual table— waiting for him! "I came in here to cool down, and as it was nearly lunch time I thought I would wait to thank you," she replied. "I'm glad you did," he cried; "1 was in a dreadful stew because I didn't i know your address, and thought I should never see you again." "Did 'you" want to see mc again, thenP" eho asked. A blush was upon her dainty cheeks, and her eyes were cast down on her plate. "You know I did!" be answered for* vently. "0! Lucy, I love you!"—and then the waitress came up and asked for hi* order. '1 ought not to have spoken," he went on, when the girl had gone, know I shall be out of a place next week—but I must aay itl I muet say it' Lucy, I love you!" , "And I love you, Donald," she whispered back, so low, that a waitrons who passed quite close to them just then never caught the worda. -But Donald did! There was no Lacy for whom he could lift the cover from th* typewriter next morning, or at whom he could smile furtively as the bad tempered Mr Maynard hurried in; but Donald had his memories. The had no time to bully that mot .ling; he barely had taken off his coat und hat before the bell rang twice rrom the president , s. room—one ring for Mr, Maynard, two rings for Mr Hayes. Both men were astonished, for neither had known th»t anybody was.in the private office, and the president never had arrived so early before in all their experience. However, the summons was unmistakable, so both went in together. And on the. threshold both paused jamaeed. Seated at the president's I desk was not the white haired,: infirm, eldja»«Ca*iK«ght» but Lucy K-amdon, 1 the stenographer who had walked out of the office yesterday morning. "What is the ■ meaning of this, madamP" began the manager in hie i customary hectoring manner. ■ j "Listen, and I'll tell you," ihe eaid calmly. "My father—Mr Cartwright—is old and ill. For a long time it had been a dream of mine to learn all about his business, and relieve him of the worry of it; so I came here, uuder my mother's name, to start at the bottom and get a thorough grounding in all the details from the lowest to the highest. And that, Mr Maynard, is bow I found you out. Not knowing who I was, you bullied mc as you have bullied my father's employees for years —and you forced mc, by.your disgraceful conduct, to reveal myself earlier than I wished. ~.•.. "My father now has placed his business entirely in my hands; and I certainly cannot on any account keep such a bully as you in my employ. You discharged mc yesterday; I discharge you to-day. Here is a cheque— you will see that my father has treated you most generously—and my orders to you are that you leave this office for good in five minutes' time. ''As for you, Donald," she went on. when the deposed manager—after havr - ing tried vainly to (md words to meet this unexpected situation—had slunk silently out of the room* "you, of course, as we arranged last night, will be my partner." "But—but that, Lucy," he stammered, "that was another kind or partnership. Our positions are different now. I am only a humble clerk and you—you "Pooh Donald!" she laughed, tenderly. "Love levels everything. You loved mc as a clerk, and you'll have just to go on loving mc 1 So there 1"