It restored her strength somewhat and made her moderately bold to pursue the search.
In walking a few blocks to fix upon some probable place, she again encountered the firm of Storm and King, and this time managed to get in.
Some gentlemen were conferring close at hand, but took no notice of her.
She was left standing, gazing nervously upon the floor.

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 near-by railing.
"Who is it you wish to see ?" he required.
"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 neighbouring wall.

He went on leisurely writing, until after a time a short, stout gentleman came in from the street.
"Mr.McManus," called the man at the desk, "this young woman wants to see you." The short gentleman turned about towards Carrie, and she arose 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.