Miss Penny's tone was warmly sympathetic; she always felt for gentlemen who came on such errands.
"They feel like a fish on a sidewalk," she would say; "real homesick!"
Mr. Bliss pondered. "I—I think it was a German town," he said, slowly. "I am almost positive it was a German town,—or province; the exact name escapes me. Hanover, perhaps? Nassau? Saxe-Coburg? I incline to think it was Saxe-Coburg, Miss Pardon. Have you the article?"
It was Miss Penny's turn to look puzzled. "We don't keep that, sir," she said. "I don't know as I ever heard of it. All we keep is Germantown and Saxony, and—"
"That is it!" cried the little minister. "Saxony! to be sure! Saxony, of course. And—yes, I have a sample—somewhere!"
He felt in his pockets, and produced a parish circular, a calendar, a note-book, a fishing-line, and finally the envelope containing the sample.
Miss Penny beamed at sight of it. "Yes, sir, we have it," she announced, joyfully.
"Mis' Bliss got it here only last week. How much did she say, Mr. Bliss?"
"Two pounds," said Mr. Bliss, promptly and decidedly.
"Two—" Miss Penny looked aghast. "Why, we don't generally—I doubt if we have that much in the store, Mr. Bliss. Was she goin' to make a slumber robe?"