g of?

We are not alone in our curiosity on this subject. Her brother Arthur,
coming unperceived into the room, gives tokens of a similar interest.
Never before had he seen her oblivious to an approaching step; and after
a momentary contemplation of her absorbed figure, so girlishly sweet
and yet so deeply intent, he advances to her side, and peering earnestly
into her face, observes with a seriousness quite unusual to him:

"Puss, you are looking worried,--not like yourself at all. I've noticed
it for some time. What's up. Getting tired of the business?"

"No--not altogether--that is, it's not that, if it's anything. I'm not
sure that it's anything. I--"

She had turned back to her desk and was pushing about the various
articles with which it was plentifully bespread; but this did not
hide the flush which had crept into her cheeks and even dyed the snowy
whiteness of her neck. Arthur's astonishment at this evidence of
emotion was very great; but he said nothing, only watched her still more
closely, as with a light laugh she regained her self-possession, and
with the practical air of a philosopher uttered this trite remark:

"Everyone has his sober moments. I was only thinking--"

"Of some new case?"

"Not exactly." The words came softly but with a touch of mingled humour
and gravity which made Arthur stare again.

"See here, Puss!" he cried. His tone had changed. "I've just come up
from the den. Father and I have had a row--a beastly row."

"A row? You and father? Oh, Arthur, I don't like that. Don't quarrel
with father. Don't, don't. Some day he and I may have a serious
difference about what I am doing. Don't let him feel that he has lost us
all."

"That's all right, Puss; but I've got to think of you a bit. I can't
see you spoil all your good times with these police horrors and not
do something to help. To-morrow I begin life as a salesman in Clarke &
Stebbin's. The salary is not great, but every little helps and I don't
dislike the business. But father does. He had rather see me loafing
about town setting the fashions for fellows as idle as myself than soil
my hands with handling merchandise. That's why we quarreled. But don't
worry. Your name didn't come up, or--or--you know whose. He hasn't an
idea of why I want to work--There, Violet there!"

Two soft arms were around his neck and Violet was letting her heart out
in a succession of sisterly kisses.

"O, Arthur, you good, good boy! Together we'll soo