Father to fix it up for you. He knows Mr. Redmond
awfully well. He plays golf with him, and he told me Mr. Redmond owned
this store, even if his name isn't on the sign. So he'll fix it!"

She departed, serenity restored all around; for Ross would surely
manage it so that Jessie should not suffer for being kind.

But before she was out of the establishment, she unfortunately
encountered Mrs. Bixby near the door, who raised her lorgnette and
surveyed the "Ill-bred young person" through it again. She so aroused
Arethusa's ire that she rushed furiously out of the shop and went
headlong on up the street. She had gone quite a block, when she
ran ... bang! into a man person, who in her excitement she had not
noticed as approaching.

"You seem to be in a very great hurry this fine morning," said a
familiar voice, and she looked up.

There was Mr. Bennet smiling at her; standing in the middle of the
sidewalk, irreproachably groomed as always, very much Mr. Bennet, and
evidently glad to see her.

Arethusa was glad to see him also. She clasped her hands, parcel and
all, and dimpled charmingly.

"I'm just as mad as I can be! That nasty old beast of a woman!"

"What old beast of a woman?"

Arethusa launched into explanation.

And as the narrative progressed, Mr. Bennet's inward amusement grew.
Arethusa was primed with names, and so he recognised Mrs. Bixby for his
aunt, the mentor of their rather extensive family connection. He would
have given anything to have seen the encounter! And he would have
backed Arethusa for winner without any hesitancy, as well as he knew
his dictatorial relative.

"And will you, Mr. Bennet," finished Jessie's champion imploringly,
"will you go back and see that man with me and fix it so they won't do
anything to Jessie?"

It might be better to fix things up now with Mr. Bennet's able
assistance, than to wait until later on to speak to Ross.

"Certainly," said Mr. Bennet, kindly, "I'll be very glad to; if you
think I can do any good."

Arethusa was absolutely sure of this. Was he not Mr. Bennet?

Mr. Platt, the floor-walker to whom Mrs. Bixby had complained of
Jessie, was also an assistant manager, and he was very glad to have the
facts in this particular case, he said, when Arethusa and Mr. Bennet
had hunted him up; Arethusa to do most of the talking, and Mr. Bennet
to smile and look on, and impress the one who had Jessie's sentence
within his power to make either good or bad, by just t