Also, she thought it disappointing of Peter junior not
to "bother" about the business which had been his father's life work.
But then Peter was altogether disappointing, as Miss Rolls (with an
"e") had disinterestedly warned her.
It was not until Win had been in New York for a month that the
influence of Miss Seeker's words made itself felt, and the Hands gave
their twitch at the hem of her dress. They had been on her mind often
enough during the four weeks--morning, noon, and night--but she had
never known that she was physically within touching distance.
The "happy omen" of getting her passage to New York free had stopped
working on the _Monarchic_. Since then bad luck had walked after her
and jumped onto her lap and purred on her pillow, exactly like a cat
that persistently clings to a person who dislikes it. All the
positions which she was competent to fill were filled already. Only
those she could not undertake seemed to be open. She tried to sing,
she tried to teach, she tried to report news, she tried to be a
publisher's reader, and to get work in a public library. She tried to
make hats, she tried to act, but nobody wanted her to do any of these
things, unless, perhaps, she went away and trained hard for a year.
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