of astonishment, "Mr Aspel!"

"Mr Aspel, indeed," cried the woman, with ineffable scorn,--"Mr
Impudence, more like. Give me my bird, I say!"

The lady raised her veil, and displayed the amazed face of Miss
Lillycrop.

"I came to inquire for my old friend--I'm _so_ grieved; I was not
aware--Mr Aspel--"

"Give me my bird, I say!" demanded the virago.

"Step this way, madam," said Aspel, driven almost to distraction as he
opened the door of the back shop. "Mrs Murridge, show this lady up to
Mr Blurt's room.--Now then, woman, take your--your--brute, and be off."

He thrust the one-eyed pheasant into the customer's bosom with such
vigour that, fearing a personal assault, she retreated to the door.
There she came to a full stop, turned about, raised her right hand
savagely, exclaimed "You're another!" let her fingers go off with the
force of a pea-cracker, and, stumbling into the street, went her devious
way.

CHAPTER TEN.

A MYSTERY CLEARED UP.

When night had fairly hung its sable curtains over the great city, Mr
Blurt descended to the shop.

"Now, Mr Aspel, I'll relieve you. The lady you sent up, Miss
Lillycrop, is, it seems, an old friend of my brother, and she insists on
acting the part of nurse to-night. I am all the better pleased, because
I have business to attend to at the other end of the town. We will
therefore close the shop, and you can go home. By the _way_, have you a
home?"

"O yes," said Aspel, with a laugh. "A poor enough one truly, off the
Strand."

"Indeed?--that reminds me: we always pay salaries in advance in this
office. Here is a sovereign to account of your first quarter. We can
settle the amount afterwards."

Aspel accepted the coin with a not particularly good grace.

"Now then, you had better--ha--excuse me--put up the shutters."

Instantly the youth pulled out the sovereign and laid it on the counter.

"No, sir," he said firmly; "I am willing to aid you in your
difficulties, but I am not willing to become a mere shop-boy--at least
not while there is man's work to be had."

Mr Blurt looked perplexed. "What are we to do?" he asked.

"Hire a little boy," said Aspel.

"But there are no little boys about," he said, looking out into the
street, where the wind was sending clouds of dust and bits of straw and
paper into the air. "I would do it myself, but have not time; I'm late
as it is. Ah! I have it--Mrs Murridge!"

Calling the faithful domestic, he asked if