"A dollar thirty, did you say?" asked Mrs. Waring, examining the silk more closely.
"Ye—yes, ma'am," quickly replied Allen. "A dollar thirty. And it's a bargain at that, I do assure you."
Mrs. Waring raised her eyes and looked steadily for a moment or two into the young man's face.
"A dollar and thirty cents," she repeated.
"Yes, ma'am. A dollar thirty," was the now assured answer. "How many yards shall I measure off for you?"
"I want about twelve yards."
"There isn't a cheaper piece of goods in market," said the young man, as he put his scissors into the silk—"not a cheaper piece, I do assure you. I had a large stock of these silks at the opening of the season, and sold two-thirds of them at a dollar and a half. But, as they are nearly closed out, I am selling the remainder at a trifle above cost. Can I show you any thing else, ma'am?"
"Not to-day, I believe," replied Mrs. Waring, as she took out her purse. "How much does it come to?"
"Twelve yards at one dollar and thirty cents—just fifteen dollars and sixty cents," said Allen.
Mrs. Waring counted out the money, and, as she handed it to the young man, fixed her eyes again searchingly upon him.