esitation. "As a man of capital, I must object," he had said to Mr.
Robinson, only a week before the house was opened. "I wish I could
make you understand that you have no capital." "I would I could
divest you of the idea and the money too," said Robinson. But it was
all of no use. A domestic fowl that has passed all its days at a
barn-door can never soar on the eagle's wing. Now Mr. Brown was the
domestic fowl, while the eagle's pinion belonged to his youngest
partner. By whom in that firm the kite was personified, shall not
here be stated.

Brisket on that day soon left the shop; but as Maryanne Brown
remained there, Robinson did not descend among the throng. There was
no private door to the house, and therefore he was forced to walk out
between the counters when he went to his dinner. On that occasion,
he passed close by Miss Brown, and met that young lady's eye without
quailing. She looked full upon him: and then, turning her face round
to her sister, tittered with an air of scorn.

"I think he's been very badly used," said Sarah Jane.

"And who has he got to blame but his own want of spirit?" said the
other. This was spoken in the open shop, and many of the young men
and women heard it. Robinson, however, merely walked on, raising his
hat, and saluting the daughters of the senior partner. But it must be
acknowledged that such remarks as that greatly aggravated the misery
of his position.

It was on the evening of that day, when he was about to leave the
establishment for the night, that he heard a gentle creeping step on
the stairs, and presently Mrs. Jones presented herself in the room in
which he was sitting. Now if there was any human fellow-creature on
the face of this earth whom George Robinson had brought himself to
hate, that human fellow-creature was Sarah Jane Jones. Jones himself
he despised, but his feeling towards Mrs. Jones was stronger than
contempt. To him it was odious that she should be present in the
house at all, and he had obtained from her father a direct promise
that she should not be allowed to come behind the counters after this
their opening day.

"George," she said, coming up to him, "I have come upstairs because I
wish to have a few words with you private."

"Will you take a chair?" said he, placing one for her. One is bound
to be courteous to a lady, even though that lady be a harpy.

"George," she again began,--she had never called him "George" before,
and he felt himself sorel