“You can go at once, if it so please you.  In fact, after what has just passed, I don’t see how you can remain, or I tolerate your presence.”

“I am ready for this, Mr. Jasper,” coolly replied the young man.

“How much is due you?” was inquired, after a brief silence.

“Twenty-five dollars, I believe,” answered Claire.

Jasper threw open a ledger that lay on the desk, and, turning to the young man’s account, ran his eyes up the two columns of figures, and then struck a balance.

“Just twenty-seven dollars,” said he, after a second examination of the figures.  “And here’s the money,” he added, as he took some bills from the desk and counted out the sum just mentioned.  “Now sign me a receipt in full to date, and that ends the matter.”

The receipt was promptly signed.

“And now,” sneered Jasper, bowing with mock deference, “I wish you joy of your better place.  You will, in all probability, hear from me again.  I haven’t much faith in your over-righteous people; and will do myself the justice to make some very careful examinations into your doings since you entered my service.  If all is right, well; if not, it won’t be good for you.  I’m not the man to forgive ingratitude, injury, and insult—­of all three of which you have been guilty.”

“We will not bandy words on that subject, Mr. Jasper,” said Claire—­“I simply deny that I have been guilty of either of the faults you allege.  As for an investigation into my business conduct, that you can do as early and as thoroughly as you please.  I shall feel no anxiety for the result.”

Jasper did not reply.  For a few moments the young man stood as if expecting some remark; none being made, he turned away, gathered together a few articles that were his own private property, tied them into a bundle and marked his name thereon.  Then bowing to the merchant, he retired—­oppressed from recent painful excitement, yet glad, in his inmost feelings, that a connection so dangerous as that with Jasper had been dissolved—­dissolved even at the cost of making an enemy.

CHAPTER IX.

As no event of particularly marked interest occurred with those whose histories we are writing, during the next few years, we will pass over that time without a record.  Some changes of more or less importance have taken place, in the natural progress of things; but these will become apparent as we pursue the narrative.

A dull, damp November day was losing itself in the sombre twilight, when Edward Claire left the store of Mr. Melleville, and took his way homeward.  An errand for his wife led him past his old place of business.  As he moved along the street, opposite, he noticed a new sign over the door, the large gilt letters of which were strongly reflected in the light of a gas-lamp.  It bore the words, Jasper & Parker.