Free Dorothy Eden by Speak to Me of Love Page A

shop I would like to be called Miss Beatrice as I have always been. Yes, what were you about to say, Mr Featherstone?”
    “Only that for someone as inexperienced as yourself—”
    “Oh, I’m not inexperienced, Mr Featherstone. Far from it. I’ve always had a gift for figures. My teacher said that it wasn’t a very feminine characteristic. Apart from that, I’ve listened to my father talking business ever since he judged I was old enough to be interested, and that’s been for a long time now. So I know a great deal of the tangible side of buying and selling. The intangible side—pleasing the customer—is one that I think a woman knows quite as well, if not better, than a man.”
    She gave her friendly smile. She was conscious of a very pleasant sense of power.
    “I have several ideas in that connection already. For instance, I would like the area round the front doors made more attractive. And I do think there’s a great deal of room for improvement in our window dressing. It’s really rather old-fashioned, and I intend to speak to my father about it. Why don’t we have a special display, whenever there’s a birth in the royal family, for instance? Lots of patriotic red, white and blue, and a slogan such as ‘Every infant is royal to its mother’.”
    Miss Brown clapped her hands. “Brilliant, Miss Beatrice!”
    “Then you must watch for happy events in the royal family, Miss Brown. A royal wedding, of course, could be a perfectly splendid occasion. We could advertise bridal gowns for weeks ahead, and get in extra dressmakers, if necessary. But I’m digressing. Just let me tell you my immediate plans. While my father is ill I intend to come in as often as possible, probably every morning. This is an emergency, and I’ve called you here to ask you to co-operate with me. I’m sure you are all my friends.”
    There was an instant murmur of assent.
    “That’s all I want to say at this moment, so you may go back to your positions. Except I would be obliged if you would stay, Mr Featherstone. I won’t keep you more than a few minutes.”
    They all filed out, Miss Brown lingering to press Beatrice’s hand in an access of emotion. Beatrice doubted if she would ever be anything but “little Miss Beatrice”, and a child, to Miss Brown, but one thing was certain, Miss Brown would be absolutely loyal.
    Mr Featherstone was another matter.
    “I’m afraid I must ask you to go,” Beatrice said, when they were alone. There was no tremor in her voice to show her distaste for what she had to do. “Those are my father’s instructions and I’ve come here this morning to carry them out. I don’t want you to say anything because it will be waste of your time and mine. Just get your things together and leave. Mr Seeley will be instructed to pay you a week’s wages which, under the circumstances, is extremely generous treatment. I hope you will never set foot in Bonnington’s again. If you do, my father might be compelled to take out a writ against you for certain items of stock which have disappeared.”
    She stood up. She didn’t want to watch the man’s suave confidence turning to a particularly unpleasant abjectness. Papa would have been pleased with her, she thought. She had proved that women were not too emotional to be given authority. She could act with ruthlessness when necessary. Her gaze was as steely as Papa’s.
    “You were very foolish to ruin your chances here,” she said. “My father is a generous employer to an honest person. But we won’t waste time talking about what you have lost. Just take my advice and be more honest in your next employment.”
    “Surely I will be given a reference,” Mr Featherstone said, in a displeasing whine.
    “Weren’t you listening to me, Mr Featherstone? I was speaking of honesty. How is my father to write a genuine reference about someone who has behaved as you have?”
    The man turned without another word and went out, and it was over. Now she could tremble