newcomer eyes that
showed no hint of moistness.

"Think I was never coming back, Joe?" queried the head of the department,
a pink-and-white-faced man, whose austere side-whiskers were belied by
genial little eyes.

"Now let me see--hum, yes, we was discussing ingrains," he continued
briskly. "That tasty little pattern there catches your eye, don't it
now, eh? Yes, yes, I know all about it. I set up housekeeping when I
was getting fourteen a week. But nothing's too good for the little nest,
eh? Of course I know, and it's only seven cents more, and the dearest is
the cheapest, I say. Tell you what I'll do, Joe,"--this with a burst of
philanthropic impulsiveness and a confidential lowering of
voice,--"seein's it's you, and I wouldn't do it for anybody else, I'll
reduce it to five cents. Only,"--here his voice became impressively
solemn,--"only you mustn't ever tell how much you really did pay."

"Sewed, lined, and laid--of course that's included," he said, after Joe
and Genevieve had conferred together and announced their decision.

"And the little nest, eh?" he queried. "When do you spread your wings
and fly away? To-morrow! So soon? Beautiful! Beautiful!"

He rolled his eyes ecstatically for a moment, then beamed upon them with
a fatherly air.

Joe had replied sturdily enough, and Genevieve had blushed prettily; but
both felt that it was not exactly proper. Not alone because of the
privacy and holiness of the subject, but because of what might have been
prudery in the middle class, but which in them was the modesty and
reticence found in individuals of the working class when they strive
after clean living and morality.

Mr. Clausen accompanied them to the elevator, all smiles, patronage, and
beneficence, while the clerks turned their heads to follow Joe's
retreating figure.

"And to-night, Joe?" Mr. Clausen asked anxiously, as they waited at the
shaft. "How do you feel? Think you'll do him?"

"Sure," Joe answered. "Never felt better in my life."

"You feel all right, eh? Good! Good! You see, I was just
a-wonderin'--you know, ha! ha!--goin' to get married and the rest--thought
you might be unstrung, eh, a trifle?--nerves just a bit off, you know.
Know how gettin' married is myself. But you're all right, eh? Of course
you are. No use asking _you_ that. Ha! ha! Well, good luck, my boy! I
know you'll win. Never had the least doubt, of course, of course."

"And good-by, Miss Pritchard,"