He seemed to himself to get on pretty well.  He soon learned all the marks on the goods intended to be understood by the shopmen, and within a few months believed that he was found generally useful.  He had as yet had no distinct department allotted to him, but was moved from place to place, according as the local pressure of business might demand.

“I confess,” he said, “that I was not always satisfied with what was going on about me.  I mean I could not help doubting if everything was done on the square, as they say.  But nothing came plainly in my way, and so I could honestly say it did not concern me.  I took care to be straightforward for my part, and, knowing only the prices marked for the sale of the goods, I had nothing to do with anything else.  But one day, while I was showing a lady some handkerchiefs which were marked as mouchoirs de Paris—­I don’t know if I pronounce it right, sir—­she said she did not believe they were French cambric; and I, knowing nothing about it, said nothing.  But, happening to look up while we both stood silent, the lady examining the handkerchiefs, and I doing nothing till she should have made up her mind, I caught sight of the eyes of the shop-walker, as they call the man who shows customers where to go for what they want, and sees that they are attended to.  He is a fat man, dressed in black, with a great gold chain, which they say in the shop is only copper gilt.  But that doesn’t matter, only it would be the liker himself.  He was standing staring at me.  I could not tell what to make of it; but from that day I often caught him watching me, as if I had been a customer suspected of shop-lifting.  Still I only thought he was very disagreeable, and tried to forget him.

“One day—­the day before yesterday—­two ladies, an old lady and a young one, came into the shop, and wanted to look at some shawls.  It was dinner-time, and most of the men were in the house at their dinner.  The shop-walker sent me to them, and then, I do believe, though I did not see him, stood behind a pillar to watch me, as he had been in the way of doing more openly.  I thought I had seen the ladies before, and though I could not then tell where, I am now almost sure they were Mrs and Miss Oldcastle, of the Hall.  They wanted to buy a cashmere for the young lady.  I showed them some.  They wanted better.  I brought the best we had, inquiring, that I might make no mistake.  They asked the price.  I told them.  They said they were not good enough, and wanted to see some more.  I told them they were the best we had.  They looked at them again; said they were sorry, but the shawls were not good enough, and left the shop without buying anything.  I proceeded to take the shawls up-stairs again, and, as I went, passed the shop walker, whom I had not observed while I was attending to the ladies.  ’YOU’re for no good, young man!’ he said with a nasty sneer.  ’What do you mean by that, Mr B.?’ I asked, for his sneer made me angry.  ’You ’ll know before