eral directions. During
the shop-day, many an article, light as lace, and heavy as broadcloth,
was taken from overhead to lay upon the counter. The shop had a special
reputation for all kinds of linen goods, from cambric handkerchiefs to
towels, and from table-napkins to sheets; but almost everything was to
be found in it, from Manchester moleskins for the navy's trousers, to
Genoa velvet for the dowager's gown, and from Horrocks's prints to
Lyons silks. It had been enlarged at the back, by building beyond the
original plan, and that part of it was a little higher, and a little
better lighted than the front; but the whole place was still dark
enough to have awaked the envy of any swindling London shopkeeper. Its
owners, however, had so long enjoyed the confidence of the
neighborhood, that faith readily took the place of sight with their
customers--so far at least as quality was concerned; and seldom, except
in a question of color or shade, was an article carried to the door to
be confronted with the day. It had been just such a shop, untouched of
even legendary change, as far back as the memory of the sexton reached;
and he, because of his age and his occupation, was the chief authority
in the local history of the place.

As, on this evening, there were few people in the street, so were there
few in the shop, and it was on the point of being closed: they were not
particular there to a good many minutes either way. Behind the counter,
on the left hand, stood a youth of about twenty, young George Turnbull,
the son of the principal partner, occupied in leisurely folding and
putting aside a number of things he had been showing to a farmer's
wife, who was just gone. He was an ordinary-looking lad, with little
more than business in his high forehead, fresh-colored, good-humored,
self-satisfied cheeks, and keen hazel eyes. These last kept wandering
from his not very pressing occupation to the other side of the shop,
where stood, behind the opposing counter, a young woman, in attendance
upon the wants of a well-dressed youth in front of it, who had just
made choice of a pair of driving-gloves. His air and carriage were
conventionally those of a gentleman--a gentleman, however, more than
ordinarily desirous of pleasing a young woman behind a counter. She
answered him with politeness, and even friendliness, nor seemed aware
of anything unusual in his attentions.

"They're splendid gloves," he said, making talk; "but don't you th