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Updated: October 6, 2025
Every charge that malice could bring, every distortion that jealousy could apply to the simplest incident, every insinuation that, judged by her own standard, had seemed to her most likely to work upon a husband Letty had crowded them all into the mean, ill-written letter the letter of a shopgirl trying to rescue her young man from the clutches of a rival.
That she she should find herself nervous, at fault, find herself playing the game as crudely as any shopgirl! "No," said Vernon. "But you couldn't have expected me?" She knew quite well what she was doing, but she was too nervous to stop herself. "I've always expected you," he said deliberately, "ever since I told you that I often dined at Thirion's." "You expected me to "
A shopgirl perhaps, and he was, probably not a clerk in a shop he looked more like a mechanic but hardly a gentleman. Not, at any rate, what her mother or Jane would call a gentleman not the kind of gentleman that George was, or Charley Gracey, for instance.
The subservient attendants in more than one fashionable shop Betty and her sister visit, know that Miss Vanderpoel is of the circle, though her father has not as yet bought or hired any great estate, and his daughter has not been seen in London. "Its queer we've never heard of her being presented," one shopgirl says to another. "Just you look at her."
"I take it, however, that you would understand," he said boldly. "I have lived in Vienna, in Paris and in London. But now I am living in Edelweiss. I have not been a shopgirl always." "I can believe that. My deductions are justified." "Pray forgive me for offering this bit of advice. A word to the wise. My uncle would close the door in your face if if he thought " "I see.
L'Hommedieu was gay, dashing, and capable of making a show out of flimsy silk a shopgirl would hesitate to wear. Yet she looked distinguished and wore her cheap jewelry with more grace than many a woman her diamonds. I would, consequently, have dropped this inquiry if some one had not remarked upon her having had a paralytic stroke after leaving the house.
She must be both poor and unhappy. Why should she not jump at the chance of bettering herself? What would Cap'n Ira say when he caught his first glimpse of that painted and powdered face? How could good Aunt Prue take to her heart the bold, jeering shopgirl, evidently born and bred as far from the old standards of Cape Cod breeding as could be imagined?
No matter how large a check she might write to buy herself a new toy it would have no bearing whatsoever upon the matter. She wished to heaven Trudy had confined her gossip to the funny little manicure with champagne eyes who flirted with someone else's husband! This was her reward for having taken up with a shopgirl person!
It was Bobby whom Betty wanted to have the blue blouse just as soon as the shopgirl finished it. "Now, what do you think of that?" Betty demanded, after she had delivered, almost in a breath, a rather garbled story of the strange girl and the black mare from England. "Goodness, Betty, how wonderful!" exclaimed her friend. "I do so want to see that over-blouse you bought.
"Alas! poor child," sighed John, looking out into the night. "She'll be there soon." "What is she going out for at this time?" Mary demanded. "I quite thought that she, too, had come to dinner. Who is she, Mrs. Sedyard?" Upon her mother's helpless silence, Edith broke in with the story as she felt she knew it. Union Square, the discharged shopgirl, John's quixotic conduct.
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