Noon at Tiffany's Read Free Page A

several minutes, the only sounds were the creak of his chair and the scratch of his pen.
    A quarter of an hour later, the sisters stole a questioning glance at one another. Clara was about to clear her throat, when he put down his pen and folded the sheaf of papers.
    “Daniel Bracey, our head man in the glass department, will show you around the workroom and answer any questions you might have.”
    Clara rose from her chair, but Tiffany motioned for her to remain seated. “Your duties as artisan-designer in my stained-glass window and mosaic department are fairly straightforward. When the orders come in, I’ll meet with you to explain what the client wants. Mostly, you’ll be designing ecclesiastical windows, though of late we are acquiring quite a few private clients who want specially designed windows for their homes.
    “When you’ve sketched out your designs and made note of the colors you wish to use for each piece, you’ll bring them to me. If I approve them, you’ll then make a cartoon—a large drawing—the same dimensions as the actual windows.”
    For a brief moment he searched her face, as if half expecting her to protest. “Once that’s completed, you will select and cut your glass. Make sure to keep an account of each pound and piece of glass used, and how much time you spend on each task.
    “Mr. Bracey and the men will then set the cames …” He saw their confusion and sighed. “Cames are the strips of lead that hold the glass pieces together.” He waited for their nods of understanding before continuing. “At that point, I’ll view the piece, make my criticisms, and then you’ll make the changes I ask for. Is this clear?”
    “Yes,” Clara replied, with a confidence she did not feel.
    “Considering your previous experience, I’ll review your position after a six-month probation period. If you’ve shown yourself to be competent and your work meets my expectations, I’ll advance you to a managerial position. The other girls need someone assertive to guide them. You are to report next Monday, 8 a.m. sharp. Tardiness is not tolerated here at Tiffany’s for any reason.”
    Clara moved forward in her chair, “Thank you, Mr. Tiffany. I’m looking forward to—”
    “Your hours,” he continued, “are Monday through Friday from eight to five, and Saturdays from eight to three-thirty. Based on what I’ve seen of your skills, and considering the responsibilities of your position, I’m setting your wage at ten dollars and fifty cents a week.”
    He shifted his attention to Josie. “As for you, Miss Wolcott, I think—”
    “It is said I have great promise as an artist,” Josie said quickly.
    He looked about to laugh, but then changed his mind. “In that case, you shall start as your sister’s assistant. Your pay will be five dollars per week. However, once the League is back in session, you should concentrate on your studies. At that time, your hours and wages will be decreased by half. You may arrange your schedule to what best suits your purpose. Is that agreeable to you?”
    “Yes, sir. I’m very grateful. I hope—”
    Abruptly, Tiffany stood and went to the door, an indication the interview was at an end.
    As if waking from a dream, Clara rose slowly. It didn’t seem real that one of the most famous and successful men in New York had just hired her. The interview could not have lasted longer than a half hour, and yet she felt her life was changed forever.
    They followed him into the hallway, where he handed his instructions to Mr. Belknap. “Give these to Mr. Bracey, Henry, and make sure the Misses Wolcott are given a tour of the department before they leave. Good day, ladies.”
    Elated, Clara all but curtsied. “Thank you, Mr. Tiffany. I can’t express how pleased I—”
    Without further ceremony, Louis Tiffany took a step back and closed the door.
    Afraid they would burst into laughter should they look at one another, the sisters directed their attention to Mr. Belknap,