given a good many thoughts to Augusta Smithers' grey eyes and, by way of
getting an insight into her character, he had at once invested in a copy
of "Jemima's Vow," thereby, somewhat against his will, swelling the gains
of Meeson's to the extent of several shillings. Now, "Jemima's Vow,"
though simple and homely, was a most striking and powerful book, which
fully deserved the reputation that it had gained, and it affected
Eustace--who was in so much different from most young men of his age that
he really did know the difference between good work and bad--more
strongly than he would have liked to own. Indeed, at the termination of
the story, what between the beauty of Augusta's pages, the memory of
Augusta's eyes, and the knowledge of Augusta's wrongs, Mr. Eustace Meeson
began to feel very much as though he had fallen in love. Accordingly, he
went out walking, and meeting a clerk whom he had known in the Meeson
establishment--one of those who had been discharged on the same day as
himself--he obtained from him Miss Smithers' address, and began to
reflect as to whether or no he should call upon her. Unable to make up
his mind, he continued to walk till he reached the quiet street where
Augusta lived, and, suddenly perceiving the house of which the clerk had
told him, yielded to temptation and rang.

The door was answered by the maid-of-all-work, who looked at him a little
curiously, but said that Miss Smithers was in, and then conducted him to
a door which was half open, and left him in that kindly and agreeable
fashion that maids-of-all-work have. Eustace was perplexed, and, looking
through the door to see if anyone was in the room, discovered Augusta
herself dressed in some dark material, seated in a chair, her hands
folded on her lap, her pale face set like a stone, and her eyes gleaming
into vacancy. He paused, wondering what could be the matter, and as he
did so his umbrella slipped from his hand, making a noise that rendered
it necessary for him to declare himself.