It happened that there was a missionary meeting at the church that

evening. All the Christian Endeavorers had been urged to attend. Elizabeth

gave this as an excuse; but the manager quickly swept that away, saying

she could go to church any night, but she could not go to this particular

play with him always. The girl eyed him calmly with much the same attitude

with which she might have pointed her pistol at his head, and said

gravely, "But I do not want to go with you."

After that the manager hated her. He always hated girls who resisted him.

He hated her, and wanted to do her harm. But he fairly persecuted her to

receive his attentions. He was a young fellow, extremely young to be

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occupying so responsible a position. He undoubtedly had business ability.

He showed it in his management of Elizabeth. The girl's life became a

torment to her. In proportion as she appeared to be the manager's favorite

the other girls became jealous of her. They taunted her with the manager's

attentions on every possible occasion. When they found anything wrong,

they charged it upon her; and so she was kept constantly going to the

manager, which was perhaps just what he wanted.

She grew paler and paler, and more and more desperate. She had run away

from one man; she had run away from a woman; but here was a man from whom

she could not run away unless she gave up her position. If it had not been

for her grandmother, she would have done so at once; but, if she gave up

her position, she would be thrown upon her grandmother for support, and

that must not be. She understood from the family talk that they were

having just as much as they could do already to make both ends meet and

keep the all-important god of Fashion satisfied. This god of Fashion had

come to seem to Elizabeth an enemy of the living God. It seemed to occupy

all people's thoughts, and everything else had to be sacrificed to meet

its demands.

She had broached the subject of school one evening soon after she arrived,

but was completely squelched by her aunt and cousin.

"You're too old!" sneered Lizzie. "School is for children."

"Lizzie went through grammar school, and we talked about high for her,"

said the grandmother proudly.

"But I just hated school," grinned Lizzie. "It ain't so nice as it's

cracked up to be. Just sit and study all day long. Why, they were always

keeping me after school for talking or laughing. I was glad enough when I

got through. You may thank your stars you didn't have to go, Bess."

"People who have to earn their bread can't lie around and go to school,"

remarked Aunt Nan dryly, and Elizabeth said no more.




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