The Pleasant Street Partnership | Page 8

brown above his socks. From beneath the brim of his old sailor hat he looked on with solemn intentness. He was on excellent terms with the workmen, and often carried home a whole armful of treasures--odd-shaped pieces of wood, curly shavings, and bits of tile.
At length all was done; the square of lawn on the Terrace side was sodded, and from the street in front of the shop all the d��bris was carried away. Surely, she would come now!
Some rainy days followed, and when the weather permitted James Mandeville and his velocipede to be abroad again, the place showed unmistakable signs of occupancy. There were muslin curtains in the upstairs windows, and, peeping in through the glass door of the shop, he saw packing-boxes. At another time a woman stood on the curbstone buying vegetables from a wagon, but she was far removed from the lady of his dreams. His heart fell.
The door of the shop stood open the next time he passed. James Mandeville halted, letting one foot slip along the pavement as a brake. Under his left arm, pressed close to his linen blouse, was a tin horn. At this moment a lady came to the door and looked out. She was not the lady of the fireplace,--a glance told him that,--yet she was quite different from the one who bought vegetables. She was tall and dark, and wore unbecoming smoked glasses. She took no notice of him, but turned and went back into the shop. James Mandeville dismounted and followed.
The packing-cases had been removed, and the sunshine that streamed in above the sheet tacked across the lower part of the west window lighted up a scene of cheerful disorder, pervading which was a pleasant odor of newness. With her back toward him, the lady began to measure off lengths of some green fabric, standing before a long table.
He waited, but still she took no notice. Should he go away? He summoned all his courage and gave voice to the question that was asking itself in his own mind: "Where is she?"
The lady turned in surprise and looked down upon him. If he could have expressed his feelings, he would have said she was a haughty person. But as she looked at him her manner changed, and she smiled as she asked, "What is it? I don't understand."
James Mandeville struggled to reply, but words were hard to find. As he stood silent a voice behind him cried, "Why, if it isn't Infinitesimal James!" and there she was, with her shining hair and laughing eyes. He laughed, too, for very relief.
"There's a fireplace," he announced, going to meet her. "I saw them make it."
"So you knew I would come back, didn't you? Yes, it is a very nice fireplace, and will be all ready for a visit from Santa Claus," she replied, shaking hands. Then quite unexpectedly she picked him up and set him on the table among the waves of green stuff. "Now you look like Triton," she said.
James Mandeville held fast to his horn and eyed his captor doubtfully, as if he had a mind to escape.
"Do you remember my name? I am Miss Norah, and I want to introduce you to my partner, who is almost as nice as I am. She is Miss Marion."
The other young lady smiled. "Do you believe in blowing your own horn, as Miss Norah does?" she asked.
James Mandeville looked at his horn, and then at the speaker; but as he did not understand, he made no reply.
"She asks foolish questions, doesn't she?" said Miss Norah. "As you are the first neighbor to call on us, you shall not be required to answer. You may help me trim the show window, if you like."
James Mandeville wriggled out from among the green waves. "What are you going to keep in your store?" he asked.
The reply was disappointing. "Why don't you keep candy?" was the next question.
"Because Miss Marion would give it all away, and we shouldn't be able to make a living."
"Would you?" he asked, turning to that lady with earnest eyes. Clearly, she might be worth cultivating.
She laughed and left the room for a moment, returning with something in her hand wrapped in silver paper. "Do you like chocolate?" she inquired; adding, "I don't know how it would be if I kept it; but as I don't keep it, of course I give it away."
This had a puzzling sound. James Mandeville almost forgot to say thank you. He decided to go, feeling he could better enjoy the chocolate alone. He edged toward the door.
"Good-by," called Miss Norah. "Come again."
"All right," said James Mandeville, and disappeared from the scene.
After his departure all was quiet in the shop for a time, except for the occasional sound of Norah's hammer as she worked in