When the limit of her distress had been nearly reached, she was beckoned to by a man at one of the many desks within the nearby railing.
"Who is it you wish to see ?" he inquired.
"Why, any one, if you please," she answered.

"I am looking for something to do." "Oh, you want to see Mr.McManus," he returned.

"Sit down," and he pointed to a chair against the neighboring wall.

He went on leisurely writing, until after a time a short, stout gentlemen came in from the street.
"Mr.McManus," called the man at the desk, "this young women wants to see you." The short gentlemen turned about towards Carrie, and she rose and came forward.
"What can I do for you, miss ?" he inquired, surveying her curiously.
"I want to know if I can get a position," she inquired.
"As what ?" he asked.
"Not as anything in particular," she faltered.
"Have you ever had any experience in the wholesale dry goods business ?" he questioned.
"No, sir," she replied.
"Are you a stenographer or typewriter ?" "No, sir." "Well, we haven't anything here," he said.

"We employ only experienced help." She began to step backward toward the door, when something about her plaintive face attracted him.
"Have you ever worked at anything before ?" he inquired.
"No, sir," she said.
"Well, now, it's hardly possible that you would get anything to do in a wholesale house of this kind.