Reynolds was shocked.
"So-and-so," said he, "will think the things are common if you don't put the price on."
"Then shall we level up, instead of levelling down?" asked the shrewd mistress.
"Oh, dear, no; for Mrs. Dash will deal somewhere else if she doesn't think she's having things extra cheap."
"I cannot help all these little peculiarities," said Phebe. "I mean to run this business on true, straight lines, whatever happens."
Reynolds wanted to say something about it being a woman's whim, but somehow or other the words would not come out. But a climax was reached when he felt that to keep silence longer would be guilty; this was when Phebe announced that in future the entire establishment would be closed every Saturday evening at eight o'clock.
"Mrs. Waring!" he exclaimed; "you have no idea what sacrifice you are making. If it is your assistants you are considering, why not close earlier on Wednesdays?"
"I intend to do that as well," she replied graciously; "but I may as well be frank with you and say it is not out of consideration to my assistants I am closing earlier on Saturdays."
"Then why do it? I want the business to be a success, and I am sure you do; but this plan, you will excuse me saying so, will be a dead loss. Why, we take as much sometimes on a Saturday evening as we do all day on Wednesday! And folks will say if we are so independent of their custom, they'll see we do without it altogether."
"Thank you most sincerely, Reynolds, for so unselfishly studying my interests. But your reasoning is a little at fault," she added, with a laugh. "If people think we can afford to be independent, that is the very best advertisement we could have, for you know the old saying, 'Nothing succeeds like success.' But neither success nor non-success weighs with me in this matter."