Plain Jane and pretty Betty

All unconscious that anything unusual had happened, Jane came home that night, beaming with happiness.

“Everything is going so beautifully at the office,” she told her kind friend, and added, as she took off her hat and put on her apron preparatory to helping with the dinner:

“What do you think? Pretty Betty Browning’s house has been sold!”

Mrs. Powell put down the potato masher and looked at Jane thoughtfully.

“Is that so? Who bought it?” she asked.

“A man named Ridgeway. I understand from Mr. Garwick that he is a business acquaintance of Mr. Browning’s. Anyway,” with a smile, “he seemed to have plenty of money. And I guess he had to have, to be able to buy the Browning place. He paid a big price for it, I can tell you.”

“H’m!” Mrs. Powell was thoughtful for some time. Then she said slowly: “I wonder what the Browning family will do now.”

“I don’t know.” Jane took off the cover of the teapot to see if she had filled it too full, found she had, and poured out some of the amber-colored liquid. “They may take a small house in town, I suppose.”

Mrs. Powell gave a short, scornful laugh.

“I can’t imagine Mrs. Browning being content to live in a small house anywhere,” she said. “And from all I can hear, that daughter of hers is just like her. I feel sorry for poor Mr. Browning, I tell you!”

In spite of the fact that she tried to keep up a cheerful conversation, Jane could see that Mrs. Powell was worried about something and several times tried to draw her around to the subject.

But Mrs. Powell insisted there was nothing at all the matter—except perhaps with Jane’s imagination!

“How can I tell you what’s troubling me, Jane Cross, when there isn’t a thing?” she cried at last in simulated exasperation.

Faced with this unanswerable query, Jane was silenced, but unconvinced. Mrs. Powell found the girl looking thoughtfully at her several times that evening and realized that she must guard her secret very carefully if she was to guard it at all!

After that several days passed uneventfully—though they were always eventful enough for Jane, absorbed as she was in the fascination of her work. The only cloud on the girl’s horizon at this time was Billy.

The young man was downhearted and morose much of the time. When he was out with her his attempts at cheerfulness were pathetic. He would not talk about his inventions, and Jane was afraid that he had become definitely discouraged.

She thought wistfully of the little pile of money growing in her bureau drawer. It grew so slowly and Billy’s need was so great! If she could only think of a way to make a big sum of money all at once!

Poor Jane! How many people before her had felt that way and been just as hopeless as she of attaining their heart’s desire!

Jane was bitter against the people of Greenville for treating Billy so. Why could not some one with money see the real worth of his inventions as she did and believe in him enough to back him and give him his chance? If she could only prove him innocent of any connection with the Martin and Hull fire some one might give him that chance. But in this she was powerless, too.

Then one day Mr. Garwick brought startling news to her.

Jane had barely entered the office and taken off her hat when he announced it.

“I’m going to sell out, Jane,” he said, holding her with his twinkling gaze. “You are going to have a new boss.”

Jane stared at him for a moment, thinking he must be joking.

“A new boss!” she repeated dazedly. “Why, I don’t understand!”

“I’ve sold out the business,” Mr. Garwick repeated, enjoying her mystification. “I’ve sold out to Clyde Browning!”

Jane sat down hard in a chair. If Mr. Garwick had told her the world was coming to an end she could not have been much more surprised, nor startled.

“But why? I don’t understand!” she cried.

“Well, now, I’ll tell you.” Mr. Garwick put the tips of his fingers together as he always did when about to launch into an explanation of some importance. “I’m getting old, Jane——”

“Old!” cried Jane impulsively. “Oh, you’re not!”

Mr. Garwick pretended to smile at this, but he was pleased just the same.

“You are a flatterer, young woman, but we’ll let that pass. Even if I’m not old, I often feel old and pretty tired. I want to rest a little, travel, and see something of the world; in other words get a little good out of the money I’ve been piling up all these years. Do you see?”

“Why, yes—but I—oh, I’m sorry! We—I—I was so happy working for you, Mr. Garwick!”

Mr. Garwick was touched by her sincerity. He patted her hand in fatherly fashion and smiled on her with genuine affection.

“Well, there, Jane, I’m glad you’ve been happy in your work and that I’ve been able to make things pleasant for you. But this won’t be a question at all of your losing your position, you know.”

Jane looked at him questioningly.

“Why, I don’t know what you mean?” she said slowly. “Do you think that after Mr. Browning has taken over the business he’ll want me here?”

“I’m quite sure of it—especially when I tell your new boss that he has a chance of getting the best go-getter in the business. That’s what I’m going to tell him, Jane. And furthermore,” he paused and regarded her with twinkling eyes, “I don’t know but what I’ll make that a provision of the sale. Take Jane Cross, too, or nothing!”

Jane laughed, unsteadily.

“You’re awfully kind,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t know how to thank you for all your kindness, but—it won’t seem the same at all!”

She met Billy on the way home from work that evening and talked it over with him.

“I wouldn’t let it worry me much,” said the latter reassuringly. “Mr. Garwick meant what he said about recommending you to Mr. Browning. He’s a mighty good sort, Jane, and I’ve not a bit of doubt that after he gets through talking, Mr. Browning will be only too glad to get you.”

“Mr. Garwick is awfully good,” said Jane thoughtfully, her eyes on the street ahead. “And from what I’ve seen and heard of Mr. Browning, he’s a mighty nice man, too. I might be able to keep my position there if it wasn’t for——”

She paused, and Billy looked at her curiously.

“I bet you’re thinking of Betty Browning,” he said after a minute. Then he added: “Don’t worry, Jane. Pretty Betty isn’t going to stick her curly head into old dad’s office. I heard some people in the store to-day say that Mrs. Browning has already gone to some relatives out of town, and I’ve no doubt our lovely Betty will soon follow. Soft, rich folks like those, Jane, don’t show up very well when they have to come up against a few of the hard knocks of life,” he philosophized, kicking a stone out of the way and watching it intently as it went spinning over and over in the roadway. “They don’t know how to take ’em—the hard knocks, that is—and their first instinct is to get as far from the scene of disaster as possible. Oh, no, Betty’ll be flying to those rich relatives of hers, don’t you worry, and she won’t even know that there is such a person as Jane Cross in her dad’s office.”

“They’ve sold their house, Billy. Do you know where they are going to live? Oh, yes, I remember! Mr. Garwick said they were making a deal for that empty cottage on Maple Street where the Devoes used to live.”

Billy whistled softly.

“Quite a change from Rose Hill!” he said. “Poor old Browning! I sure pity him!”

Jane was very thoughtful for the rest of that evening and for the next few days—the time that had necessarily to elapse before the final consummation of the deal between Mr. Garwick and Clyde Browning.

Jane hoped that Billy had been right about Betty, but she was not by any means sure.

Then one day her employer and Mr. Browning came into the office, laughing and joking in friendly fashion.

“Browning,” said Mr. Garwick, turning to Jane with his pleasant, twinkling smile, “this is the young lady I’ve been telling you about and whose services you can’t afford to lose. Miss Cross—Mr. Browning!”