hough she were conferring the favour. And yet, clearing his
throat, he was impelled to say:--"Miss Ottway's leaving me, she's
going into the Boston office with Mr. Semple, the treasurer of the
corporation. I shall miss her, she's an able and reliable woman, and she
knows my ways." He paused, fingering his paper knife. "The fact is,
Miss Bumpus, she's spoken highly of you, she tells me you're quick and
accurate and painstaking--I've noticed that for myself. She seems to
think you could do her work, and recommends that I give you a trial. You
understand, of course, that the position is in a way confidential, and
that you could not expect at first, at any rate, the salary Miss Ottway
has had, but I'm willing to offer you fourteen dollars a week to begin
with, and afterwards, if we get along together, to give you more. What
do you say?"

"I'd like to try it, Mr. Ditmar," Janet said, and added nothing, no word
of gratitude or of appreciation to that consent.

"Very well then," he replied, "that's settled. Miss Ottway will explain
things to you, and tell you about my peculiarities. And when she goes
you can take her desk, by the window nearest my door."

Ditmar sat idle for some minutes after she had gone, staring through the
open doorway into the outer office....

To Ditmar she had given no evidence of the storm his offer had created
in her breast, and it was characteristic also that she waited until
supper was nearly over to inform her family, making the announcement in
a matter-of-fact tone, just as though it were not the unique piece
of good fortune that had come to the Bumpuses since Edward had been
eliminated from the mercantile establishment at Dolton. The news was
received with something like consternation. For the moment Hannah was
incapable of speech, and her hand trembled as she resumed the cutting of
the pie: but hope surged within her despite her effort to keep it down,
her determination to remain true to the fatalism from which she had
paradoxically derived so much comfort. The effect on Edward, while
somewhat less violent, was temporarily to take away his appetite. Hope,
to flower in him, needed but little watering. Great was his faith in the
Bumpus blood, and secretly he had always regarded his eldest daughter as
the chosen vessel for their redemption.

"Well, I swan!" he exclaimed, staring at her in admiration and
neglecting his pie, "I've always thought you had it in you to get on,
Janet. I guess I've t