By the time that Ruby had made it to the domestic service agency, her feet were aching. She took tiny steps toward the empty receptionist's desk as her feet throbbed. Ruby compensated for the pain by holding onto her bag for dear life. It was always how she dealt with pain, by focusing on something else. 

"Hello?" Ruby called out. "Is anyone here?" 

"Yes! Just one moment! You may sit down while you wait," a soft, melodic female voice cried out in response from another room. 

"All right," she replied as she sat down on the chair next to a lamp and an end table. Settling into a comfortable position, Ruby turned her attentions toward the waiting area. On the wall, there was a painting of a landscape and immediately her heart longed for the quiet isolation of her home in Manhasset. 

The minutes crawled by as she began to notice a song in the rhythm of the clock ticking. She hummed along as she continued to wait. She hoped that she wasn't forgotten about. 

Just when she was about to call out again, someone came out from the back and smiled. She was an older woman, perhaps in her late sixties. Her gray hair, perfectly coifed, almost matched the same color as her ensemble. Not a wrinkle out of place. 

"Are you Miss Ruby Wilkinson?" the older woman asked with an expectant, patient smile on her face. 

Ruby nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I am Ruby Wilkinson." 

"Perfect, come on back to my office. I'm Mrs. Sophia Harris. I apologize for my receptionist," she harrumphed. "She is late again. Do follow me." 

As she followed Mrs. Harris to her office, Ruby's heart fluttered with anticipation and fear. This was new territory for her, all of this. She did not know what kind of questions were going to be asked, but she sucked in a breath and sat down at the chair upon the invitation. 

"So," Mrs. Harris asked, looking over a sheet of paper. "This is new to you." 

"Yes, ma'am. I have never been in domestic service before," she sucked her stomach in and hid her hands under her skirt so that Mrs. Harris would not notice them trembling. 

"And you are twenty-three, yes?" 

"Yes." 

"What kind of experience do you have, it says on your application that you served clients as a seamstress. Do you have any experience living at someone's home in order to be one?" 

"I did, one summer, yes. It was at Mrs. Pendergrast's home in the Hampton's ma'am." 

"I know the family well, and you should be fortunate to know, that I did inquire about you. Mrs. Pendergrast had glowing things to say about you. So tell me, why do you not wish to work as a seamstress any more?" 

"I wish to work in domestic service," Ruby replied. "It would be an honor to serve a family as a maid, while also being a seamstress on top of that, if needed." 

"I see," she said. "You have a pleasant enough disposition for the post. There is a family with a situation. An old woman and her son and daughter. They are in need of a maid. They have requested an initial trial. I will send forth word if you are interested in the family. Keep in mind, they are a rather peculiar lot." 

"I am interested." 

"Good. Here is the address. I advise you come to their home in one week's time. They are still vacationing in Paris."

A little more than 500 words. But Ruby got the job, for now at least!