"Have you an appointment?" "Yes," he said.
She took his ward, disappeared, and returned."This way, please," she said.
Mr.Beagle senior must be very old indeed, he thought; for junior was distinctly grizzled.In fact (so rapidly does the mind run), Mr.Beagle senior must be near the age of retirement.Very likely (he said to himself) that will soon occur; there will be a general stepping-up among members of the firm, and that will be my chance.I wonder how much they pay ajunior partner?
He almost uttered this question, as Mr.Beagle junior looked at him so inquiringly.But he caught himself in time.
"I beg your pardon for intruding," said Gissing, "but I am the new floorwalker.""You are very kind," said Mr.Beagle junior, "but we do not need a new floorwalker.""I beg your pardon again," said Gissing, "but you are not au courant with the affairs of the store.One has just died, right by the silk-stocking counter.Very bad for business."At this moment the telephone rang, and Mr.Beagle seized it.He listened, sharply examining his caller meanwhile.
"You are right," he said, as he put down the receiver."Well, sir, have you had any experience?""Not exactly of that sort," said Gissing; "but I think I understand the requirements.The tone of the store--""I will ask you to be here at four-thirty this afternoon," said Mr.Beagle."We have a particular routine in regard to candidates for that position.You will readily perceive that it is a post of some importance.The floorwalker is our point of social contact with patrons "Gissing negligently dusted his shoes with a handkerchief.
"Pray do not apologize," he said kindly."I am willing to congratulate with you on your good fortune.It was mere hazard that I was in the store.To-day, of course, business will be poor.But to-morrow, I think you will find--""At four-thirty," said Mr.Beagle, a little puzzled.
That day Gissing went without lunch.First he explored the whole building from top to bottom, until he knew the location of every department, and had the store directory firmly memorized.With almost proprietary tenderness he studied the shining goods and trinkets; noted approvingly the clerks who seemed to him specially prompt and obliging to customers; scowled a little at any sign of boredom or inattention.He heard the soft sigh of the pneumatic tubes as they received money and blew it to some distant coffer: this money, he thought, was already partlyhis.That square-cut creature whom he presently discerned following him was undoubtedly the store detective: he smiled to think what a pleasant anecdote this would be when he was admitted to junior partnership.Then he went, finally, to the special Masculine Shop on the fifth floor, where he bought a silk hat, a cutaway coat and waistcoat, and trousers of pearly stripe.He did not forget patent leather shoes, nor white spats.He refused- the little white linen margins which the clerk wished to affix to the V of his waistcoat.That, he felt, was the ultra touch which would spoil all.The just less than perfection, how perfect it is!
It was getting late.He hurried to Penn Station where he hired one of those little dressing booths, and put on his regalia.His tweeds, in a neat package, he checked at the parcel counter.Then he returned to the store for the important interview.
