m-chair at his desk.

"Ellen?" said he, glancing at her with an inquiring look, probably
satisfied that she had come to plead for the return of her son to the
place from which he had been discharged.

It did not occur to him that human impudence could extend so far as to
permit such people to bring a suit against him for their rights,
however well defined or clearly established. If he owed them anything,
or they had any claims against him, it was their duty to be solemnly
impressed by the loftiness of his social position, and humbly to beg
for what belonged to them.

"I thought I would come up and see you this morning, Mr. Checkynshaw,"
stammered the poor woman; and poverty had so subdued her, and so broken
her spirit, that she hardly knew how to introduce the subject upon her
mind.

"If you come to ask me to take Fitz back, it will do no good. You
permit the puppy to insult me," replied the banker, in the most
forbidding tones.

"I don't permit him to insult you. I did what I could to make him speak
properly to you," replied Mrs. Wittleworth, meekly.

"It's all the same; it was bad bringing up. I can't have him in my
office again," added Mr. Checkynshaw, though at that moment, for some
reason best known to himself, he would have been very glad to forgive
the young man's insolence, and take him back at double salary. "That
boy has outraged my good-nature. When I saw how hard the times were
with you, I was willing to give him double wages; but the ingrate only
insulted me for it."

"He is very wilful; I wish he was not so headstrong."

"I can't take him back now; at least not till he has apologized for his
impudence, and promised better things for the future," continued the
banker, shaking his head, as though his mind was firmly made up for the
issue.

"I did not come to ask you to take him back," added Mrs. Wittleworth.

"O, you didn't!"

"No, sir; he is not yet willing to come."

"What did you come for--to beg?"

"I don't come to you to beg," replied she with a little display of
spirit.

"What do you want, then?"

"You mustn't be angry with me, Mr. Checkynshaw."

"I'm not angry with you. If you have anything to say, say it. I hate
long stories," said the banker, impatiently.

"Fitz has taken it into his head that the block of stores which my
father gave to Mary belongs to us," continued Mrs. Wittleworth, looking
down to the floor, as if fearful that the great man's glance would
blast her if she