"And to think. I'd helped to bring her up so genteel, and with such
pretty manners!" cried the old woman, indignantly. "She might have done
so much better with her cleverness too. Such a milliner as she might have
turned out! Well good-bye, brother James, and don't go having any more of
those visions; they're not wholesome for you."

"I should be very lonesome without them," answered Oliver. "Good-bye,
Charlotte, good-bye, and God bless you. Come again as soon as you can."

He went with her to the door, and stayed to watch her along the quiet
alley, till she turned into the street. Then, with a last nod to the back
of her bonnet, as she passed out of his sight, he returned slowly into
his dark shop, put up the flap of the counter, and retreated to the
darker room within. Hot as it was, he fancied it was growing a little
chilly with the coming of the night, and he drew on his old coat, and
threw a handkerchief over his white head, and then sat down in the dusk,
looking out into his shop and the alley beyond it. He must have fallen
into a doze after a while, being overcome with the heat, and lulled by
the constant hum of the streets, which reached his dull ear in a softened
murmur; for at length he started up almost in a fright, and found that
complete darkness had fallen upon him suddenly, as it seemed to him. A
church clock was striking nine, and his shop was not closed yet. He went
out hurriedly to put the shutters up.




CHAPTER II.