man and exchanged a few words.

"I notice you have a great many friends," the stranger remarked one
day.

"I?" exclaimed Giant Despair, who looked fiercer than ever with one
eye bandaged. "Well, I suppose I have," he admitted, and became lost
in thought. Eight months ago probably not a soul would have done more
than leave a card, unless it had been a member of the firm. How had it
come about? Undoubtedly the shopkeepers had something to do with it.
They had showed themselves friendly. Then he thought of that bond.
Suppose he had refused Norah? Ah, he had told Miss Sarah the strict
truth when he said he had not lost anything in that transaction. He
really felt the impulse to do another kindness to somebody, but not
being in practice, nothing suggested itself.

An opportunity came, however. One Sunday afternoon James Mandeville
brought his father with him to see Mr. Goodman. The child's joyous air
of proprietorship was pretty to see.

"Here's my father," he announced. "Isn't you glad he's come home?"
Then, as the two men shook hands, he asked, leaning confidingly
against his old friend, "Does your eye hurt, still yet?"

The conversation turned naturally to business, and after a time Mr.
Goodman suddenly said, "Norton, it has just occurred to me-- We are
making some changes this spring, and we need an experienced man to
look after the city trade. How would you like the place?"

Mr. Norton's careworn, boyish face flushed and brightened. "It would
mean a great deal to me now, Mr. Goodman. My wife will be at home
soon; I was dreading the thought of having to leave. Thank you very
much."

"You needn't thank me. I am considering my own interest," the old man
replied, with an affability that astounded himself.

"I rather think Jenks is expecting the place, but he isn't married;
he can wait," he added.

* * * * *

"Miss Norah, does you reckon old Marse Goodman's gittin' religion?"
asked Mammy Belle one day. "Looks like he's mighty soft-hearted."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIXTH

NORAH'S ARK

Alexina said the shop, like a little leaven, was leavening the whole
neighborhood, and truly it seemed so. To her those two weeks of
association with Marion had been a joy. In the congenial surroundings
of the shop she found it easy to live in to-day, leaving the future to
unfold as it would. Her shorthand book lay unopened; she began to feel
the truth of Marion's assurance, "Your forte is dainty,