"Oh, well enough—a very respectable lot."
"You don't think any of them have a spite against your young woman?"
"Well, no, I don't suppose they have—that is——"
"Ah, you hesitate—that means that one of them has. Now speak out, Jim. All depends on your being candid."
"Oh, yes! I'll be candid enough," said Jim; "I never saw anything wrong with the young women in the shop. Of course, except Alison, I have not had much to do with any of them, but Ally once said to me that a girl called Louisa Clay had, she thought, a spite agen her. I can't imagine why, I'm sure."
"This is interesting," said Sampson. "Mark my words, Louisa Clay is at the bottom of the business. Now tell me, what sort is she?"
"A handsome, well-mannered girl," replied Jim. "She's about twenty years of age, I should say, with a dash of the gypsy in her, for she has coal-black hair and flashing eyes."
"Oh, you seem to have studied her face a bit."
"Well, she is not the sort that you could pass," said Jim, coloring; "besides, she wouldn't stand it."
"A jealous sort, would you say?"