"Thanks," she said; "I will not, really."
"Eh, but ye will, then," he exclaimed; "a sma' sample, ye an' Mrs. Macpheerson! Whaur's ma bag?"
In spite of her protestations he drew a bottle out, and the hostess produced a couple of glasses from the cupboard.
"Port!" he said. "The de'il's liquors a' o' them; but, if there's a disteenction, maybe a wee drappie o' the 'Four Grape Balance' deserves mon's condemnation least." His conflicting emotions delayed the toast for some time. "The de'il's liquors!" he groaned again, fingering the bottle irresolutely. "Eh, but it's the 'Four Grape Balance,'" he murmured with reluctant admiration, eyeing the sample against the light. "There! Ye may baith o' ye drink it doon! But masel', I wouldna touch a drap. An' as for ye, ye wee Cockney bairn, if I catch ye tastin' onything stronger a than tea in a' your days, or knowin' the flavour o' the perneecious stuff it's your affleected father's duty tae lure the unsuspeecious minds wi'—temptin' the frail tae their eternal ruin, an' servin' the de'il when his sicht is on the Lord—I'll leather ye!"
Charlotte giggled nervously—Figaro-wise, that she might not be obliged to weep; and Mrs. Macpherson, raising the glass to her lips, said "Luck!"
"Luck!" they all echoed.
And Mary, conscious that the career would be no heroic one, was also conscious she was not a heroine. "I am," she said to herself, "just a real unhappy woman, in very desperate straits. So let me do whatever turns up, and be profoundly grateful that anything can be done at all."
CHAPTER IV
The wealth of Messrs. Pattenden and Sons, which was considerable, was not indicated by the arrangement of their London branch. A flight of narrow stairs, none too clean, led to a pair of doors respectively painted "Warehouse" and "Private"; and having performed the superfluous ceremony of knocking at the former, Mary found herself in front of a rough counter, behind which two or three young men were busily engaged in stacking books. There were books in profusion, books in virginity, books tempting and delightful to behold. Volume upon volume, crisp in cover and shiny of edge, they were piled on the table and heaped on the floor; and the young men handled them with as little concern as if they had been grocery. Such is the force of custom.