"They bain't for sale," growled Noakes.
"Indeed! You hang them up as ornaments, I suppose. Perhaps you'll sell me some if I buy some sugar, say."
"Get out of my shop," cried Noakes, furiously. "I tell 'ee I won't serve 'ee, and I won't have you imperent young fellers in my shop at all, so now you know it."
Templeton shrugged his shoulders. Taking his aunt's letter from his pocket, he opened it, and said:
"There must be a mistake. My aunt says that the principal tradesman is a very civil and obliging person. You know her—Miss Caroline Templeton. She is coming down in a few days to lecture on food economy, and wants you to lay in a stock of various things of which I have a list. But perhaps she is referring to somebody else, and it's no good bothering you."
At the mention of Miss Templeton's name an uneasy look settled upon Noakes's face. He watched Templeton replace the letter in his pocket, then said hesitatingly, in a milder tone:
"When be the lady coming, sir?"
"In ten days or so, and as the letter was written some days ago, it may be under a week from now."
The look of uneasiness gave way to a smile. Noakes turned his back, and Templeton, resolving to have nothing more to do with the man, left the shop.
II