"May I ask, then, what does?" asked Reynolds, feeling quite in a fog. The question was put in a most respectful manner.
The answer was given in one word, "God," and when it was spoken both felt no inclination to pursue the subject further. But to Mrs. Colston, Reynold's felt he might explode to his heart's content.
"What's the good of trying to push things on, I should like to know? The mistress, with all these new-fangled ideas, will just ruin the business. What's God to do with a draper's shop, or a grocer's shop either?"
"Keep cool, my dear boy, keep cool. If God's got nothing to do with these shops then they'd better be closed."
"Do you mean to say God troubles Himself about sugar and calico?"
"Yes, I do, and with everything that goes on under this roof."
"Well, I don't, then; but if even He does, what has shutting up early on Saturday evenings to do with it?—that's what I want to know! I tell you it's only a woman's whim"—and he felt ever so much better after that expression had come out.
"To give herself and her friends proper time to prepare for the Sabbath."
"But she's not a Jewess."
Mrs. Colston could not keep from laughing. "The idea that only Jews want preparation-time! Why, Reynolds, I'm ashamed of you. To think that a grown-up Sunday School boy like you should be so dense! How can anybody keep the Sabbath properly who is toiling up to midnight on Saturday? And look how mean it seems, as though you said to the Lord, 'I'll take precious good care You don't get five minutes more time than I can help.' I tell you, Reynolds, your mistress won't lose a penny by honouring God. You mark my words, God has said, 'Them that honour Me, I will honour.' And if even she did lose some customers, she won't lose in the end, I tell you. You watch, but don't take short views of things."