aturally turn
to him for companionship.

"I think I shall go up there this evening myself," he said. (It must be
explained that Maurice no longer boarded at his uncle's.) "If you have
any message to send, I can take it."

"Give Bessie my love," said Gilbert, a little mischievously, knowing
that Maurice would never carry such a message.

"I will _remember_ you to _Miss Benton_," said Maurice, with dignity.

"Oh! don't take the trouble," said Gilbert, carelessly; "it isn't at
all necessary."

"Then I won't."

"Just as you please."

"I never saw such an amount of _cheek_ in my life," said Maurice to
himself. "I've a great mind to drop a hint to Bessie. She notices him
altogether too much."

So Maurice, fulfilling his determination of calling that evening,
managed to introduce the subject.

"Gilbert Grey called on you last evening, didn't he?"

"Yes; he is going away. He came to say good-by."

"I sha'n't miss him much."

"Why not? Are you not a good deal together?"

"In the store we are together. Out of it, I don't care to keep his
company."

"Why not?"

"He isn't my style."

"If it means that he does not resemble you, Maurice, I think you are
right."

"He is very much stuck up."

"Really, Maurice--I hope you will excuse my saying it--I think that
charge could be brought against you more justly."

"Do you mean to say I am stuck up?" asked Maurice, indignantly.

"Perhaps it is only your manner."

"But do you think I seem so?"

"More than Gilbert."

"You seem very familiar with Grey, to call him Gilbert."

"Of course I am familiar with him. Why shouldn't I be?"

"It doesn't show very good taste on your part."

"I don't know about that. Gilbert is popular in society. You know that
at parties he never has any difficulty in filling up his card."

Maurice did know that at the parties when both were present, Gilbert
was received with much more favor than himself, and this was one of the
circumstances that made him angry with his fellow-clerk. Few can pardon
a wound to their self-love.

"It only shows that humbugs flourish best in the world," he said.

"Do you call Gilbert a humbug?" asked Bessie, her fair face flushed
with indignation.

"Yes, I do."

"Then," she said, spiritedly, "it only shows your jealousy and envy of
him, because he is better looking and more popular than you. Jealousy
is hateful, I think," said the little lady, tossing her head with
emphasis.

"I hope when I am jea