“It was quite enough to make him ill. Such a disgraceful affair in a house of this class. For his own sake he does well to hush it up, though I intend to see that all proper precautions are taken; upon that, at any rate, I insist. If I had my own way there should have been none of this misplaced leniency. Here, William!” and he beckoned to the boy, who was irreverently flicking the bust of Mozart with a duster. “Yes, sir,” said William, who, being out of the trouble himself, secretly rather enjoyed the commotion it had caused. “Go at once to Smith, the ironmonger, and order him to send some one round to fix a spring bell on a till. Do you understand?” “Quite, sir,” replied William, unable to resist glancing across the counter. Frithiof went on arranging some music that had just arrived, but he flushed deeply, and Mr. Horner, glad to have found a vulnerable point of attack, did not scruple to make the most of his opportunity. Never, surely, did ironmonger do his work so slowly! Never, surely, did an employer give so much of his valuable time to directing exactly what was to be done, and superintending an affair about which he knew nothing. But the fixing of that detestable bell gave Mr. Horner a capitol excuse for being in the shop at Frithiof’s elbow, and every word and look conveyed such insulting suspicion of the Norwegian that honest old Foster began to feel angry. “Why should I mind this vulgar brute?” thought Frithiof, as he forced himself to go on with his work with the air of quiet determination which Mr. Horner detested. But all the same he did care, and it was the very vulgarity of the attack that made him inwardly wince. His headache grew worse and worse, while in maddening monotony came the sounds of piano tuning from the inner shop, hammering and bell-ringing at the till close by, and covert insults and innuendoes from the grating voice of James Horner. How much an employer can do for those in his shop, how close and cordial the relation may be, he had learnt from his intercourse with Mr. Boniface. He now learnt the opposite truth, that no position affords such constant opportunities for petty tyranny if the head of the firm happens to be mean or prejudiced. The miserable hours dragged on somehow, and at last, late in the afternoon, Foster came up to him with a message. “Mr. Horner wishes to speak to you,” he said; “I will take your place here.” Then, lowering his voice cautiously, “It’s my opinion, Mr. Falck, that he is trying to goad you into resigning, or into an impertinent answer which would be sufficient to cause your dismissal.” “Thank you for the warning,” said Frithiof gratefully, and a little encouraged by the mere fact that the foreman cared enough for him to speak in such a way, he went to the private room, determined to be on his guard and not to let pride or anger get the better of his dignity. Mr. Horner replied to his knock, but did not glance round as he entered the room.