it. The others behaved to her as to any
customer known to stand upon her dignity, but she made them no return
in politeness; and the way she would order Mary, now there was no
father to offend, would have been amusing enough but for the irritation
its extreme rudeness caused her. She did, however, manage sometimes to
be at once both a little angry and much amused. Small idea had Mrs.
Turnbull of the diversion which on such occasions she afforded the
customers present.

One day, a short time before her marriage, delayed by the illness of
Mr. Redmain, Miss Mortimer happened to be in the shop, and was being
served by Mary, when Mrs. Turnbull entered. Careless of the customer,
she walked straight up to her as if she saw none, and in a tone that
would be dignified, and was haughty, desired her to bring her a reel of
marking-cotton. Now it had been a principle with Mary's father, and she
had thoroughly learned it, that whatever would be counted a rudeness by
_any_ customer, must be shown to _none_. "If all are equal in the sight
of God," he would say, "how dare I leave a poor woman to serve a rich?
Would I leave one countess to serve another? My business is to sell in
the name of Christ. To respect persons in the shop would be just the
same as to do it in the chapel, and would be to deny him."

"Excuse me, ma'am," said Mary, "I am waiting on Miss Mortimer," and
went on with what she was about. Mrs. Turnbull flounced away, a little
abashed, not by Mary, but by finding who the customer was, and carried
her commands across the shop. After a moment or two, however,
imagining, in the blindness of her surging anger, that Miss Mortimer
was gone, whereas she had only moved a little farther on to look at
something, she walked up to Mary in a fury.

"Miss Marston," she said, her voice half choked with rage, "I am at a
loss to understand what you mean by your impertinence."

"I am sorry you should think me impertinent," answered Mary. "You saw
yourself I was engaged with a customer, and could not attend to you."

"Your tone was insufferable, miss!" cried the grand lady; but what more
she would have said I can not tell, for just then Miss Mortimer resumed
her place in front of Mary. She had no idea of her position in the
shop, neither suspected who her assailant was, and, fearing the woman's
accusation might do her an injury, felt compelled to interfere.

"Miss Marston," she said--she had just heard Mrs. Turnbull use her
name--"if