u will render Bowen & Cleet their account current, and make up the pork
sale; it has been standing open long enough. And," added Mr. Flint, "fill
up bills of lading for the D. D. coffee."

"I don't think I will," was the quiet reply.

Mr. Flint did not believe his ears.

"Mr. Walters!"

"Mr. Flint."

"You will fill up those bills of lading immediately."

"I won't!" plumply.

This caused Mr. Flint to sink in a chair with astonishment; and Mortimer
went on writing.

"Did you say that you wouldn't?" asked Mr. Flint, looking at him.

"Yes, sir."

"You did!"

"My year," said Mortimer, leisurely, "expires to-day, and with it, I am
happy to state, my connection with Flint & Snarle."

Mr. Flint hunted twenty seconds for his lost voice.

"You insolent----"

"Sir!" cried Mortimer, turning to him abruptly, "until now I have borne
your tyranny with meekness. We are no longer employer and clerk. We are man
and man, with the advantage on my side. If you apply an insulting epithet
to me, I shall pull your ears!"

O Tim, how you rubbed your hands, you little villain! How your limbs seemed
to be receiving a series of galvanic shocks from an invisible battery! How
your eyes sparkled, and your proclivity for fight got uppermost, till you
cried out, "Pitch into him, old boy!"

"Go!" hissed Flint, through his closed teeth; "go!" that was all the word
he could master.

Mortimer passed out of the office.

The genial sunshine slid from the house-tops, and fell under his feet; a
thousand airy forms walked with him, and he felt their presence, though he
could not see them.

He wandered through the Park. April had breathed on the cold ground, and
the green grass was springing up to welcome her. The leaves were unfolding
themselves, and the air was full of spring. The fountain had thrown off its
icy manacles, and leaped up with a sense of freedom.

His dreamy eyes saw it all. The black shadows had fallen from him; he had
left them with Flint; and a bright day had dawned within him and without
him. Everything was tinged with iridescent light, for he looked at the
world, as it were, through dew-drops. Happy morning--happy life! when one
can put aside the trailing vines of painful memory, and let the warm
sunshine of Heaven find its way into the heart.

In this sunny mood he turned his way homeward. He passed Mrs. Snarle on the
stairs with a smile; he heard Daisy singing in the sitting-room; and he sat
himself down in the