a most beautiful name, she thought, and she who bore it was
beautiful too. And then there arose within her a wish--shadowy and
undefined to herself, it is true; but still a wish--that she, Maggie
Miller, might one day call that gentle Rose her sister. "I shall see
her sometimes, anyway," she thought, "and this George Douglas, too. I
wish they'd visit us together;" and having by this time reached the
post-office she deposited the letters and galloped rapidly toward
home.

CHAPTER VII.

THE SENIOR PARTNER.

The establishment of Douglas & Co. was closed for the night. The
clerks had gone each to his own home; old Safford, the poor relation,
the man-of-all-work, who attended faithfully to everything, groaning
often and praying oftener over the careless habits of "the boys," as
he called the two young men, his employers, had sought his comfortless
bachelor attic, where he slept always with one ear open, listening for
any burglarious sound which might come from the store below, and which
had it come to him listening thus would have frightened him half
to death. George Douglas, too, the senior partner of the firm, had
retired to his own room, which was far more elegantly furnished than
that of the old man in the attic, and now in a velvet easy-chair he
sat reading the letter from Hillsdale, which had arrived that evening,
and a portion of which we subjoin for the reader's benefit.

After giving an account of his accident, and the manner in which it
occurred, Warner continued:

"They say 'tis a mighty bad wind which blows no one any good, and so,
though I verily believe I suffer all a man can suffer with a broken
bone, yet when I look at the fair face of Maggie Miller I feel that
I would not exchange this high old bed, to enter which needs a short
ladder, even for a seat by you on that three-legged stool behind the
old writing-desk. I never saw anything like her in my life. Everything
she thinks, she says, and as to flattering her, it can't be done. I've
told her a dozen times at least that she was beautiful, and she didn't
mind it any more than Rose does when I flatter her. Still, I fancy if
I were to talk to her of love it might make a difference, and perhaps
I shall ere I leave the place.

"You know, George, I have always insisted there was but one female in
the world fit to be a wife, and as that one was my sister I should
probably never have the pleasure of paying any bills for Mrs. Henry
Warner; but I've h