| Author: | Hulbert Footner | ISBN: | 1230000157624 |
| Publisher: | WDS Publishing | Publication: | August 4, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Hulbert Footner |
| ISBN: | 1230000157624 |
| Publisher: | WDS Publishing |
| Publication: | August 4, 2013 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
I can not better put that extraordinary woman, my employer, before you
than by describing my first meeting with her. It is easier to show her
qualities in action than to describe them.
On a certain morning, no different from thousands of other mornings, I
was in a train on my way to the office when eye was caught by this
striking advertisement:
WANTED--By a woman of affairs, a woman secretary; common sense is the
prime requisite.
Printed words have an extraordinary effect on one sometimes. Something
in these terse phrases so strongly appealed to me that though I had a
very good position at the time, I interrupted my journey to the office
and went directly to the address given.
It was on Gramercy Square. The house proved to be one of the fine old
dwellings down there that have been altered into chic more-orless-studio
apartments. Bridal couples of the old Knickerbocker set are fond of
setting up in that neighborhood, I am told. As I approached other
females were converging at the door from three directions. The hall-boy,
a typical New York specimen, looked us over with a grin, and without
asking our business said:
"Madame Storey ain't down yet. Youse is all to wait in the little front
room."
I asked him privately what was Madame Storey's business.
"Search me!" he said cheekily. "She don't hang out no sign."
Her apartment was the first floor front; part of the parlor floor of the
old mansion. It was evidently only an office, but such an office! The
walls were hung with priceless tapestries, there was an Italian
Renaissance table for the secretary, ditto chairs for the clients, and
here and there a bit of Chinese porcelain to make a vivid spot of color.
I confess I looked a little dubiously at all this magnificence; somehow
it didn't seem quite respectable. All the time I was wondering what
Madame Storey's affairs consisted of.
I can not better put that extraordinary woman, my employer, before you
than by describing my first meeting with her. It is easier to show her
qualities in action than to describe them.
On a certain morning, no different from thousands of other mornings, I
was in a train on my way to the office when eye was caught by this
striking advertisement:
WANTED--By a woman of affairs, a woman secretary; common sense is the
prime requisite.
Printed words have an extraordinary effect on one sometimes. Something
in these terse phrases so strongly appealed to me that though I had a
very good position at the time, I interrupted my journey to the office
and went directly to the address given.
It was on Gramercy Square. The house proved to be one of the fine old
dwellings down there that have been altered into chic more-orless-studio
apartments. Bridal couples of the old Knickerbocker set are fond of
setting up in that neighborhood, I am told. As I approached other
females were converging at the door from three directions. The hall-boy,
a typical New York specimen, looked us over with a grin, and without
asking our business said:
"Madame Storey ain't down yet. Youse is all to wait in the little front
room."
I asked him privately what was Madame Storey's business.
"Search me!" he said cheekily. "She don't hang out no sign."
Her apartment was the first floor front; part of the parlor floor of the
old mansion. It was evidently only an office, but such an office! The
walls were hung with priceless tapestries, there was an Italian
Renaissance table for the secretary, ditto chairs for the clients, and
here and there a bit of Chinese porcelain to make a vivid spot of color.
I confess I looked a little dubiously at all this magnificence; somehow
it didn't seem quite respectable. All the time I was wondering what
Madame Storey's affairs consisted of.
