ght, who gives you the trouble, I
dare say."

"He--oh! he is paid in full. I offered him, at first, twenty-five cents
in the dollar, but THAT he wouldn't hear to. Then I found a small
error, and offered forty. It wouldn't do, and I had to pay the scamp a
hundred. I can look that fellow in the face with a perfectly clear
conscience."

"Who else can it be, then?"

"Only your brother, Myers, my dear; somehow or other, we made a mistake
in our figures, which made out a demand in his favor of $100,000. I
paid it in property, but when we came to look over the figures it was
discovered that a cypher too much had been thrown in, and Myers paid
back the difference like a man, as he is."

"And to whom will that difference belong?"

"To whom--oh!--why, of course, to the right owner."

CHAPTER XIII.

When I found myself once more in the possession of Bobbinet & Co., I
fancied that I might anticipate a long residence in their drawers, my
freshness, as an article, having been somewhat tarnished by the
appearance at Mrs. Trotter's ball. In this I was mistaken, the next day
bringing about a release, and a restoration to my proper place in
society.

The very morning after I was again in the drawer, a female voice was
heard asking for "worked French pocket-handkerchiefs." As I clearly
came within this category--alas, poor Adrienne!--in half a minute I
found myself, along with fifty fellows or fellowesses, lying on the
counter. The instant I heard the voice, I knew that the speaker was not
"mamma," but "my child," and I now saw that she was fair. Julia Monson
was not as brilliantly handsome as my late owner, but she had more
feeling and refinement in the expression of her countenance. Still
there was an uneasy worldly glancing of the eye, that denoted how much
she lived out of herself, in the less favorable understanding of the
term; an expression of countenance that I have had occasion to remark
in most of those who think a very expensive handkerchief necessary to
their happiness. It is, in fact, the natural indication that the mind
dwells more on show than on substantial things, and a proof that the
possessor of this quality is not content to rely altogether on the
higher moral feelings and attainments for her claims to deference. In a
word, it is some such trait as that which distinguishes the beautiful
plumage of the peacock, from the motive that incites the bird to
display his feathers.

In company with Miss Monson w