. Melbury, the timber-dealer, just below here."

"And how many can you make in a day?"

"In a day and half the night, three bundles--that's a thousand and a
half."

"Two and threepence." The barber paused. "Well, look here," he
continued, with the remains of a calculation in his tone, which
calculation had been the reduction to figures of the probable monetary
magnetism necessary to overpower the resistant force of her present
purse and the woman's love of comeliness, "here's a sovereign--a gold
sovereign, almost new." He held it out between his finger and thumb.
"That's as much as you'd earn in a week and a half at that rough man's
work, and it's yours for just letting me snip off what you've got too
much of."

The girl's bosom moved a very little. "Why can't the lady send to some
other girl who don't value her hair--not to me?" she exclaimed.

"Why, simpleton, because yours is the exact shade of her own, and 'tis
a shade you can't match by dyeing. But you are not going to refuse me
now I've come all the way from Sherton o' purpose?"

"I say I won't sell it--to you or anybody."

"Now listen," and he drew up a little closer beside her. "The lady is
very rich, and won't be particular to a few shillings; so I will
advance to this on my own responsibility--I'll make the one sovereign
two, rather than go back empty-handed."

"No, no, no!" she cried, beginning to be much agitated. "You are
a-tempting me, Mr. Percombe. You go on like the Devil to Dr. Faustus
in the penny book. But I don't want your money, and won't agree. Why
did you come? I said when you got me into your shop and urged me so
much, that I didn't mean to sell my hair!" The speaker was hot and
stern.

"Marty, now hearken. The lady that wants it wants it badly. And,
between you and me, you'd better let her have it. 'Twill be bad for
you if you don't."

"Bad for me? Who is she, then?"

The barber held his tongue, and the girl repeated the question.

"I am not at liberty to tell you. And as she is going abroad soon it
makes no difference who she is at all."

"She wants it to go abroad wi'?"

Percombe assented by a nod. The girl regarded him reflectively.
"Barber Percombe," she said, "I know who 'tis. 'Tis she at the
House--Mrs. Charmond!"

"That's my secret. However, if you agree to let me have it, I'll tell
you in confidence."

"I'll certainly not let you have it unless you tell me the truth. It is
Mrs. Charmond."

The barbe