begets love, and I'll be sworn that the pretty young woman has a
good fortune, by the anxiety the old one felt in her behalf."

I was in the maddest heroics of love. "What do I care about her
property," said I disdainfully. "Such a beautiful, elegant creature is
a fortune in herself."

"Yes--to those who have enough of their own. But my dear young sir,
beauty won't boil the pot."

To joke me at the expense of the beautiful unknown was sacrilege, and
casting upon my tormentor, a look of unmitigated contempt, I left the
shop with a lofty step, and an air of offended dignity.

As I passed into the street, I fancied that the term "ridiculous
puppy!" was hissed after me.

I strode back into the shop. The apothecary was waiting upon a new
customer.

"Was that insult intended for me?" I demanded, in a haughty tone.

"What did I say, Sir?"

"You called me a ridiculous puppy," said I.

"You are mistaken, young man. I am not in the habit of speaking my
thoughts aloud."

I deserved this cut for my folly, and felt keenly that I had placed
myself in an absurd position.

"My uncle is right," said I, to myself, as I retraced my steps to
Hatton Garden. "I am a babe in my knowledge of the world. I must go
more into society, or I shall for ever be getting into such ridiculous
scrapes."

At dinner my uncle met me with a serious face.

"What kept you from the office, Geoffrey, this morning?"

I, willing to act openly with him, narrated to him the adventure I had
met with.

"I think I know the lady," said he. "She is not very tall--is fair
complexioned, with blue eyes and light brown hair. _Rather_ pretty
than otherwise."

"_Rather_ pretty. She is _beautiful_, Sir."

"Phew!" said Mr. Moncton. "_We_ see with other eyes. Young men are
always blind. The girl is well enough--and better still, she is very
rich. Did she tell you her name?"

"I did not ask her."

"Where was your curiosity?"

"I wished very much to put the question, for I was anxious to know; but
really, uncle, I had not the face to do it. But you can tell me."

"If she did not tell you herself, I am not going to betray her secret.
What use would the knowledge be to you?"

"It would be pleasant to know her name."

My uncle looked hard at me; and something like a sarcastic smile passed
over his lips.

"Boy, it would render you miserable."

"In what way?"

"By leading you to neglect business, and by filling your head with
hopes which could never b