"Nice model you've got--good skin tints--oh, don't bother about the
fixative if you're working. I see it."
She darted in, past Joy, snatched a bottle half full of something
yellow, and was out again before any one could speak.
"I'm hurrying," she called superfluously back as she fled to the
floor below. "Giving a dance tonight."
Joy, most mousy-quiet in her chair, mentally registered another
requirement toward being the kind of girl she ought to be. There
were such lots of wonderful things to learn!
She went to the Morrows regularly every day after that, six days in
all. She told Grandmother where she was, not what she was doing. It
didn't occur to her that Grandmother would mind, but she thought it
would be pleasanter to surprise her, and say, "See the lovely dress
I earned all myself, posing for the Morrows!"
Meanwhile, Grandmother, pleased at her little girl's brightened face
and general happiness of demeanor, asked no questions.
"You've been one of the best models we ever had, my dear," said Mrs.
Morrow in her deep, unceremonious voice, when the last day came.
"And it occurred to me that you might be too hurried when the last
day came to do your shopping yourself. So I just ran uptown and got
your pretties for you."
It was not for a long time that Joy discovered the regular pay of a
model to be fifty cents an hour, and the sum total of her gray
costume to have been--it was late for summer styles, so they were
marked down--fifty-three dollars and ninety cents.
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