BY MRS. JOHN LILLIE.
Chapter II.
To any one unaccustomed to serving in a shop the duties seem very perplexing. Left alone, Nora sat down behind the counter feeling decidedly confused by the novelty of her position. There was a glare of gas-light in the window above the fancy articles, and Nora watched the faces of the passers-by who peered in, sometimes pausing for a more critical survey, sometimes hurrying on with absent-minded glances, but it seemed to her as if a real customer never would appear. Finally, with a rush of frosty air, a small boy appeared who wanted some needles; then a bevy of girls who had wools to match, and drove Nora wild with their questions. These were followed by a cross old gentleman, who had evidently been induced by his wife to match some silk, and who vented his ill-humor on poor little Nora, scolding her about the silk, and the change she made, and everything she tried to do for him. To his visit succeeded an interval of solitude, and then the pleasant figure of Mrs. Bruce came hurrying in, her face glowing from the night air, and a tempting parcel of Cambridge sausages in her hands.
"Now, my dear," said Mrs. Bruce, "what do you say to stopping another 'arf an hour, and then trying a bit of supper? Why, wot's on your mind?"
For Nora's face had suddenly colored.
"Dear Mrs. Bruce," she exclaimed, "I have such a favor to ask of you. You sell fancy articles, and I know we have one or two things that might fetch something. Oh, could I put them in your window?"
"Why, of course," said Mrs. Bruce, cheerily; "why not? Here, run and get them. I'll wait a minute."
Nora flew up stairs, but on reaching the upper room found her mother sleeping so peacefully she had not the heart to disturb her. But she felt sure her purpose could not be disapproved, and so she opened a small trunk, searching among their few possessions for the articles she had referred to. There was a sandal-wood box which Nora knew from childhood, in it were a few of Mrs. Mayne's girlish treasures, and opening this Nora drew out a pretty, old-fashioned hand screen, just such as fashion, tired of novelty, is bringing back to use. The faded colors, the delicate scent, the decoration, all would have made it valuable to the bric-à-brac collector of to-day. And there, painted fancifully across the back, was the name
Nora held the little screen carefully in her hands, puzzling over the name, unknown in her family she was sure, yet bringing back to her mind the wintry morning when she had seen the Deanery gate open, and that pretty, unknown "Penelope" come out in the clear crisp sunshine of the morning. "Oh, if she were only here to buy it!" thought Nora, hastening down stairs with her treasure. Mrs. Bruce approved highly of it.