and, obtaining nothing of the kind, went off in an exceedingly
bad humor. Three of them left the door open, and the other two
pulled it so spitefully in going out that the little bell played
the very deuce with Hepzibah's nerves. A round, bustling,
fire-ruddy housewife of the neighborhood burst breathless into
the shop, fiercely demanding yeast; and when the poor gentlewoman,
with her cold shyness of manner, gave her hot customer to understand
that she did not keep the article, this very capable housewife took
upon herself to administer a regular rebuke.

"A cent-shop, and No yeast!" quoth she; "that will never do!
Who ever heard of such a thing? Your loaf will never rise, no
more than mine will to-day. You had better shut up shop at once."

"Well," said Hepzibah, heaving a deep sigh, "perhaps I had!"

Several times, moreover, besides the above instance, her lady-like
sensibilities were seriously infringed upon by the familiar,
if not rude, tone with which people addressed her. They evidently
considered themselves not merely her equals, but her patrons and
superiors. Now, Hepzibah had unconsciously flattered herself with
the idea that there would be a gleam or halo, of some kind or
other, about her person, which would insure an obeisance to her
sterling gentility, or, at least, a tacit recognition of it.
On the other hand, nothing tortured her more intolerably than when
this recognition was too prominently expressed. To one or two rather
officious offers of sympathy, her responses were little short of
acrimonious; and, we regret to say, Hepzibah was thrown into a
positively unchristian state of mind by the suspicion that one of
her customers was drawn to the shop, not by any real need of