CHAPTER I.


"A fair day's business. A _very_ fair day's business," said Leonard
Jasper, as he closed a small account-book, over which he had been
poring, pencil in hand, for some ten minutes. The tone in which he
spoke expressed more than ordinary gratification.

"To what do the sales amount?" asked a young man, clerk to the dealer,
approaching his principal as he spoke.

"To just two hundred dollars, Edward. It's the best day we've had for
a month."

"The best, in more than one sense," remarked the young man, with a
meaning expression.

"You're right there, too," said Jasper, with animation, rubbing his
hands together as he spoke, in the manner of one who is particularly
well pleased with himself. "I made two or three trades that told
largely on the sunny side of profit and loss account."

"True enough. Though I've been afraid, ever since you sold that piece
of velvet to Harland's wife, that you cut rather deeper than was
prudent."