Susan Lenox: Her Fall and Rise, by David Graham Phillips

He was clear out of humor with her, so dumb, so unappreciative."There'll be a car along soon," said he sourly."You needn't wait," said she timidly. "Thank you again.""You can't miss it. Good-by." And he lifted his hat–"tipped" it,rather–for he would not have wasted a full lift upon such a female.She gave a gasp of relief when he departed; then a gasp of terror–for upon the opposite corner stood the Waterburys. The globetrotterand his wife were so dazed by the city that they did not seeher, though in their helpless glancing round they looked straight ather. She hastily ran into a drug store on the corner. A young manin shirt sleeves held up by pink garters, and with oily black haircarefully parted and plastered, put down a pestle and mortar andcame forward. He had kind brown eyes, but there was somethingwrong with the lower part of his face. Susan did not dare look tosee what it was, lest he should think her unfeeling. He was behindthe counter. Susan saw the soda fountain. As if by inspiration, shesaid, "Some chocolate soda, please.""Ice cream?" asked the young man in a peculiar voice, like thatof one who has a harelip."Please," said Susan. And then she saw the sign, "Ice Cream,ten cents," and wished she hadn't.The young man mixed the soda, put in a liberal helping of icecream, set it before her with a spoon in it, rested the knuckles ofhis brown hairy hands on the counter and said:"It »is« hot.""Yes, indeed," assented Susan. "I wonder where I could leavemy bundle for a while. I'm a stranger and I want to look for aboarding house.""You might leave it here with me," said the young man. "That'sabout our biggest line of trade–that and postage stamps andtelephone–»and« the directory. "He laughed heartily. Susan did notsee why; she did not like the sound, either, for the young man'sdeformity of lower jaw deformed his laughter as well as his speech.However, she smiled politely and ate and drank her soda slowly."I'll be glad to take care of your bundle," the young man saidpresently. "Ever been here before?""No," said Susan. "That is, not since I was about four years old.""I was four," said the young man, "when a horse stepped on mymouth in the street.""My, how dreadful!" exclaimed Susan."You can see some of the scar yet," the young man assuredher, and he pointed to his curiously sunken mouth. "The doctorssaid it was the most remarkable case of the kind on record,"continued he proudly. "That was what led me into the medical line.You don't seem to have your boarding house picked.""I was going to look in the papers.""That's dangerous–especially for a young lady. Some of themboarding houses–well, they're no better'n they ought to be.""I don't suppose you know of any?""My aunt keeps one. And she's got a vacancy, it beingsummer.""I'm afraid it'd be too expensive for me," said Susan, to feel herway.The young man was much flattered. But he said, "Oh, it ain't sotoppy. I think you could make a deal with her for five per."Susan looked inquiring."Five a week–room and board.""I might stand that," said Susan reflectively. Then, deciding forcomplete confidence, "I'm looking for work, too.""What line?""Oh, I never tried anything. I thought maybe dressmaking ormillinery.""Mighty poor season for jobs. The times are bad, anyhow." Hewas looking at her with kindly curiosity. "If I was you, I'd go backhome–and wait."Susan shrank within herself. "I can't do that," she said.The young man thought awhile, then said: "If you should go tomy aunt's, you can say Mr. Ellison sent you. No, that ain't me. It'sthe boss. You see, a respectable boarding house asks forreferences."Susan colored deeply and her gaze slowly sank. "I didn't knowthat," she murmured.