The haughty lady withdrew her eyes from a spot some ten miles beyond the back of the shop, where hitherto they had been resting, and fixed them for the first time upon Grindley junior.
“Thank you,” said the haughty lady.
Grindley junior looked up and immediately, to his annoyance, felt that he was blushing. Grindley junior blushed easily—it annoyed him very much.
The haughty young lady also blushed. She did not often blush; when she did, she felt angry with herself.
“A shilling and a penny,” demanded Grindley junior.
The haughty young lady counted out the money and departed. Grindley junior, peeping from behind a tin of Abernethy biscuits, noticed that as she passed the window she turned and looked back. She was a very pretty, haughty lady. Grindley junior rather admired dark, level brows and finely cut, tremulous lips, especially when combined with a mass of soft, brown hair, and a rich olive complexion that flushed and paled as one looked at it.
“Might send that telegram off if you’ve nothing else to do, and there’s no particular reason for keeping it back,” suggested Mrs. Postwhistle.
“It’s only just been handed in,” explained Grindley junior, somewhat hurt.
“You’ve been looking at it for the last five minutes by the clock,” said Mrs. Postwhistle.
Grindley junior sat down to the machine. The name and address of the sender was Helvetia Appleyard, Nevill’s Court.