He proceeded to write out the ticket, his thoughts running upon whether--if it did come to a sale--he could not make three pounds by the brooch alone. As he was handing her the money, somebody rushed in, close to the spot occupied by Mary, and dashed down a large-sized paper parcel on the counter. She wore a black lace bonnet, which had once been white, frayed, and altogether the worse for wear, independent of its dirt. It was tilted on the back of her head, displaying a mass of hair in front, half grey, half black, and exceedingly in disorder; together with a red face. It was Mrs. Dunn. 'Well, to be sure! if it's not Mary Baxendale! I thought you was too much of the lady to put your nose inside a pop-shop. Don't it go again the grain?' she ironically added, for she did not appear to be in the sweetest of tempers. 'It does indeed, Mrs. Dunn,' was the girl's meek answer, as she took her money and departed. 'Now then, old Cox, just attend to me,' began Mrs. Dunn. 'I have brought something as you don't get offered every day.' Mr. Cox, accustomed to the scant ceremony bestowed upon him by some of the ladies of Daffodil's Delight, took the speech with indifference, and gave his attention to the parcel, from which Mrs. Dunn was rapidly taking off the twine. 'What's this--silk?' cried he, as a roll of dress-silk, brown, cross-barred with gold, came forth to view. 'Yes, it is silk; and there's fourteen yards of it; and I want thirty shillings upon it,' volubly replied Mrs. Dunn. He took the silk between his fingers, feeling its substance, in his professionally indifferent and disparaging manner. 'Where did you get it from?' he asked. 'Where did I get it from?' retorted Mrs. Dunn. 'What's that to you!' D'ye think I stole it?' 'How do I know?' returned he. 'You insolent fellow! Is it only to-day as you have knowed me, Tom Cox? My name's Hannah Dunn; and I don't want you to testify to my honesty; I can hold up my head in Daffodil's Delight just as well as you can--perhaps a little better. Concern yourself with your own business. I want thirty shillings upon that.' 'It isn't worth thirty shillings in the shop, new,' was the rejoinder. 'What?' shrieked Mrs. Dunn. 'It cost three-and-fourpence halfpenny a yard, every yard of it, and there's fourteen of 'em, I tell you.' 'I don't care if it cost six-and-fourpence halfpenny, it's not worth more than I say. I'll lend you ten shillings upon it, and I should lose then.' 'Where do you expect to go to when you die?' demanded Mrs. Dunn, in a tone that might be heard half over the length and breadth of Daffodil's Delight. 'I wouldn't tell such lies for the paltry sake of grinding folks down; no, not if you made me a duchess to-morrow for it.' 'Here, take the silk off. I have not got time to bother: it's Saturday night.' He swept the parcel, silk, paper, and string, towards her, and was turning away. She leaned over the counter and seized upon him.