“Is your mamma in the store?”
“No, sir,” said Ellen, “she is ill and cannot come out, and she sent me to look at merinoes for her, if you please, sir.”
“Here, Saunders,” said Mr. St. Clair, “show this young lady the merinoes.”
Mr. Saunders made his appearance from among a little group of clerks, with whom he had been indulging in a few jokes by way of relief from the tedium of business. “Come this way,” he said to Ellen; and sauntering before her with a rather dissatisfied air, led the way out of the entrance hall into another and much larger apartment. There were plenty of people here, too, and just as busy as those they had quitted. Mr. Saunders having brought Ellen to the merino counter, placed himself behind it; and leaning over it and fixing his eyes carelessly upon her, asked what she wanted to look at. His tone and manner struck Ellen most unpleasantly, and made her again wish herself out of the store. He was a tall, lank young man, with a quantity of fair hair combed down on each side of his face, a slovenly exterior, and the most disagreeable pair of eyes, Ellen thought, she had ever beheld. She could not bear to meet them, and cast down her own. Their look was bold, ill-bred, and ill-humoured; and Ellen felt, though she couldn’t have told why, that she need not expect either kindness or politeness from him.
“What do you want to see, little one?” inquired this gentleman, as if he had a business in hand he would like to be rid of. Ellen heartily wished he was rid of it, and she, too. “Merinoes, if you please,” she answered without looking up.
“Well, what kind of merinoes? Here are all sorts and descriptions of merinoes, and I can’t pull them all down, you know, for you to look at. What kind do you want?”
“I don’t know without looking,” said Ellen, “won’t you please to show me some?”
He tossed down several pieces upon the counter, and tumbled them about before her.
“There,” said he, “is that anything like what you want? There’s
