Chapter 27 - Page 2

inaudible, begged
to know to which department he could have the pleasure of directing them.
He was a very good-looking, or perhaps it would be more correct to say a
very _beautiful_ young man, with raven-black hair, glossy and
curled, and parted down the middle of his shapely head, and a beautiful
small moustache to match. His eyes were also dark and fine, and all his
features regular. His figure was as perfect as his face; many a wealthy
man, made ugly by that mocker Nature, would have gladly given half his
inheritance in exchange for such a physique; and his coat of finest cloth
fitted him to perfection, and had evidently been built by some tailor as
celebrated for his coats as Morris for his wall-papers, and Leighton for
his pictures of ethereal women.

Constance, a little surprised at being obsequiously addressed by so
exquisite a person, stated the object of their visit. He looked
surprised, and, losing his obsequiousness, replied that he was not aware
that an assistant had been advertised for. She explained that they had
seen no advertisement, but had merely come in to inquire, as her friend
wished to get a situation in a shop. He smiled at her innocence--he even
smiled superciliously--and, with no deference left in his manner, told
them shortly that they had made a great mistake, and was about to show
them out, when, wonderful to relate, all at once a great change came over
his beautiful countenance, and he stood rooted to the spot, cringing,
confused, crimson to the roots of his raven ringlets. His sudden collapse
had been caused by the sight of a pair of cold, keen grey eyes, with an
expression almost ferocious in them, fixed on his face. They belonged to
an elderly man with a short grizzly beard and podgy nose; a short,
square, ugly man, who had drawn near unperceived with cat-like steps, and
was attentively listening to the shop-walker's words, and marking his
manner. He was the manager.

"I am sorry I made a mistake," said Constance a little stiffly, and
turned to go.

The young man made no reply. The manager, still keeping his basilisk eyes
on him, nodded sharply, as if to say, "Go and have your head taken off."
Then he turned to the girls.

"One moment, young ladies," he said. "Kindly step this way, and let me
know just what you want."

They followed him into a small private office, where he placed chairs for
them, and then allowed Constance to repeat what he had already heard, and
to add a few particulars about Fan's history. He appeared to be paying
but little attention to what she said; while she spoke he was keenly
studying their faces--first hers, then Fan's.

"There is no vacancy at present," he replied at length.