"Always, Mrs. Gray; but I hadn't got no capital; and for a man to go into business without capital, why, ma'am, it's like a body that aint got no soul."
"Don't talk so, Mr. Jones," said Mrs. Gray, to whom the latter proposition sounded atheistical, "don't!"
"Well, but what's a man without capital?" asked Mr. Jones, unconscious of his offence, "why, nothink, Mrs. Gray, nothink! Well, but that's not the question—I've got capital now, you see, and so I am going to set up a grocery business in the rag and bottle shop round the corner; and I hare called to secure your custom—that's all, Mrs. Gray."
He winked and chuckled again. Rachel could not help smiling. Mrs. Gray was grave and courteous, like any foreign potentate congratulating his dear brother, Monsieur mon frere, on some fortunate event of his reign.
"I called to tell you that, Mrs. Gray," resumed Jones; "and, also, to ask a favour of Miss Gray. I should be so much obliged to 'her, if she could spare my little Mary for half an hour or so, just to look over the house with me."
"Of course she can," replied Mrs. Gray for her meek daughter. "Go and put on your bonnet, Mary.'"
Mary, whom the tidings of the grocer's shop had most agreeably excited, rose with great alacrity to obey, and promptly returned, with her bonnet on.
It was Rachel who let them out.
"You need not be in a hurry to come back, dear," she whispered; "there's not more work than Jane and I can well manage."
Mary's only reply to this kind speech, was a saucy toss of the head. The little thing already felt an heiress.