of being "all of the best quality," not
figuratively but literally. The famous oak staircase, with the broad
shallow steps and the twisted balustrade, which would not have disgraced
a manor house, ran up right in the centre and terminated in a
gallery--like a musician's gallery--hung with Turkey carpets, Moorish
rugs, and "muslin from the Indies," and from the gallery various work
and show rooms opened. It was evident that "Robinson's" was considerably
older than the lifetime of the first Robinson--the silk-weaver and
wool-stapler who had used it as a mart for his wares. Though it was only
the product of a country town, it bore a resemblance to old London city
places of business. These were wont to have a Dutch atmosphere of
industry and sobriety, together with a fair share of the learning and
refinement of the times hanging about them, so that their masters
figured as honoured and influential citizens of the metropolis.
Belonging to the category were the linen shop of a certain Alexander
Pope's father, and the law-stationer's shop, from which issued, in his
day, a beautiful youth known as "Master John Milton."

There was the customary bustle of a market day at "Robinson's." Miss
Franklin was moving about in the women's department, seeing that
everybody there was served, and giving an occasional direction to the
women who served. She was, as Dora Millar had once described her, as
"fat as a pin-cushion," with what had been originally a fair
pink-and-white complexion, degenerated into the mottled "red all over,"
into which such complexions occasionally pass in middle life. But she
looked like a lady by many small traits--by her quiet, easy movements;
by the clear enunciation and pleasant tones, which could be ringing when
necessary, of a cultivated voice that reached the ears of the
bystanders. She did not wear the conventional black silk or cashmere of
a shop-woman. There might be a lingering protest or a lurking vanity in
the myrtle-green gown and the little lace cap, with its tiny _noeuds_
of dark green riband, which she wore instead. One might guess by their
dainty decorum and becomingness that Miss Franklin had thought a good
deal, and to purpose, about dress, in her day--had made a study of it,
and taken pleasure in its finer effects. In that light she was the right
woman in the right place--presiding over the shop-women in a
linen-draper's shop. At the same time she belonged as clearly to the
upper middle class as