or a descendant of his, could see me behind the counter to-day.
he would call it the fulfillment of his worst wishes. But I thank
you for your kindness, Mr. Holgrave, and will do my utmost to be
a good shop-keeper."

"Pray do" said Holgrave, "and let me have the pleasure of being
your first customer. I am about taking a walk to the seashore,
before going to my rooms, where I misuse Heaven's blessed sunshine
by tracing out human features through its agency. A few of those
biscuits, dipt in sea-water, will be just what I need for breakfast.
What is the price of half a dozen?"

"Let me be a lady a moment longer," replied Hepzibah, with a manner
of antique stateliness to which a melancholy smile lent a kind of grace.
She put the biscuits into his hand, but rejected the compensation.
"A Pyncheon must not, at all events under her forefathers' roof,
receive money for a morsel of bread from her only friend!"

Holgrave took his departure, leaving her, for the moment, with
spirits not quite so much depressed. Soon, however, they had
subsided nearly to their former dead level. With a beating heart,
she listened to the footsteps of early passengers, which now
began to be frequent along the street. Once or twice they seemed
to linger; these strangers, or neighbors, as the case might be,
were looking at the display of toys and petty commodities in
Hepzibah's shop-window. She was doubly tortured; in part, with
a sense of overwhelming shame that strange and unloving eyes
should have the privilege of gazing, and partly because the idea
occurred to her, with ridiculous importunity, that the window was
not arranged so skilfully, nor nearly to so much advantage, as it