rton," she said, with gracious dignity, "I want to
introduce my young friend Mr. Darcy, of Hope Mills, Yerbury, to you. If
you can serve him in any business-way, I shall be glad to have you."

The gentleman bowed, and held out his hand, with cordial fine breeding.

"Hope Mills! It belonged to my friend Lawrence, did it not,--David
Lawrence?"

"Until his death, yes."

"Sad misfortune, that. He ought to have retired years before. There was
some villany in his manager, was there not? It is difficult to find a
purely honest man nowadays; but I do believe Lawrence was one. We dealt
with him a great many years, but toward the last there was some
dissatisfaction,--goods not coming quite up to samples."

"We try to do our business on the square, Mr. Throckmorton," returned
Jack, with a proud curve of the lips that was almost a smile, and
illumined his face. "If any thing is not exactly as represented, we
shall make it good; but we try never to have occasion to do that. We
should be glad to have you test our honesty and skill."

"Thank you,--I will, I will;" and, touching his hat to Miss McLeod, they
parted.

"If men were as generous as you!" cried Jack, with enthusiastic candor,
"how splendid a place this world would be for business! Did you ever
have a jealous thought in all your life?"

She laughed brightly. "I have had nearly all the things I wanted," she
answered, with tender solemnity. "There would have been little excuse.
Mr. Darcy, we do not always realize how hard life is to some; and, where
everybody's man's hand is against one, it is natural for him to be
against every man."

Their four-o'clock meal was an elegant little dinner. They were quite
alone, which pleased Jack. She questioned him about Maverick, his
practice, his friends, and wondered if he ever meant to marry. Jack said
laughingly no one in Yerbury dared to make fascinating eyes at him.

Did she care so much for Maverick? Surely these two ought to be
together, yet what would _he_ do without his trusty comrade?

They veered round to the mills presently, and discussed honesty. Jack
admitted that Mr. Throckmorton and other customers had a right to
complain. There had been a deal of cheap wool used, and many poor
workmen employed, during Eastman's last year or two.

"Mr. Darcy," she began energetically, "why do you not think up something
new? We import pretty material for ladies' wear, that could as well be
made here, for we women are growing sens