Paul listened attentively to the clerk under whom he was placed for instruction.
“What’s the price of this calico?” inquired a common-looking woman.
“A shilling a yard, ma’am,” (this was not in war times.)
“It looks rather coarse.”
“Coarse, ma’am! What can you be thinking of? It is a superfine piece of goods. We sell more of it than of any other figure. The mayor’s wife was in here yesterday, and bought two dress patterns off of it.”
“Did she?” asked the woman, who appeared favorably impressed by this circumstance.
“Yes, and she promised to send her friends here after some of it. You’d better take it while you can get it.”
“Will it wash?”
“To be sure it will.”
“Then I guess you may cut me off ten yards.”
This was quickly done, and the woman departed with her purchase.
Five minutes later, another woman entered with a bundle of the same figured calico.
Seeing her coming, Williams hastily slipped the remnant of the piece out of sight.
“I got this calico here,” said the newcomer, “one day last week. You warranted it to wash, but I find it won’t. Here’s a piece I’ve tried.”
She showed a pattern, which had a faded look.
“You’ve come to the wrong store,” said Williams, coolly. “You must have got the calico somewhere else.”
“No, I’m sure I got it here. I remember particularly buying it of you.”
“You’ve got a better memory than I have, then. We haven’t got a piece of calico like that in the store.”
Paul listened to this assertion with unutterable surprise.
“I am quite certain I bought it here,” said the woman, perplexed.
“Must have been the next store,–Blake & Hastings. Better go over there.”
The woman went out.
“That’s the way to do business,” said Williams, winking at Paul.
Paul said nothing, but he felt more than ever doubtful about retaining his place.
XXII.
MR. BENTON’S ADVENTURE.
ONE evening, about a fortnight after his entrance into Smith & Thompson’s employment, Paul was putting up the shutters, the business of the day being over. It devolved upon him to open and close the store, and usually he was the last one to go home.
This evening, however, Mr. Nicholas Benton graciously remained behind and assisted Paul in closing the store. This was unusual, and surprised Paul a little. It was soon explained, however.
“Good-night, Nicholas,–I mean, Mr. Benton,” said Paul.
“Not quite yet. I want you to walk a little way with me this evening.”
Paul hesitated.
“Come, no backing out. I want to confide to you a very important secret.”
He looked so mysterious that Paul’s curiosity was aroused, and reflecting that it was yet early, he took his companion’s proffered arm, and sauntered along by his side.
“What’s the secret?” he asked at length, perceiving that Nicholas was silent.
“Wait till we get to a more retired place.”
He turned out of Broadway into a side street, where the passers were less numerous.
“I don’t think you could guess,” said the young man, turning towards our hero.
“I don’t think I could.”
“And yet,” continued Benton, meditatively, “it is possible that you may have noticed something in my appearance just a little unusual, within the last week. Haven’t you, now?”
Paul could not say that he had.
Mr. Benton looked a little disappointed.
“Nobody can tell what has been the state of my feelings,” he resumed after a pause.
“You ain’t sick?” questioned Paul, hastily.
“Nothing of the sort, only my appetite has been a good deal affected. I don’t think I have eaten as much in a week as you would in a day,” he added, complacently.
“If I felt that way I should think I was going to be sick,” said Paul.
“I’ll let you into the secret,” said Mr. Benton, lowering his voice, and looking carefully about him, to make sure that no one was within hearing distance–“I’m in love.”
This seemed so utterly ludicrous to Paul, that he came very near losing Mr. Benton’s friendship forever by bursting into a hearty laugh.
“I didn’t think of that,” he said.
“It’s taken away my appetite, and I haven’t been able to sleep nights,” continued Mr. Benton, in a cheerful tone. “I feel just as Howard Courtenay did in the great story that’s coming out in the Weekly Budget. You’ve read it, haven’t you?”