One afternoon Mrs. Granville asked Paul to drive round to the grocery store. She wished to get a supply of a particular kind of cheese which she had neglected to order through the housekeeper. It so happened that there were several customers ahead of her, and she had to wait her turn. These were being supplied with various articles, and the old lady could not help overhearing what passed between them and the storekeeper. One thing in especial attracted her attention--the prices that were charged. They were in every instance below those charged on the bills handed in to her by Mrs. Mercer. Mrs. Granville made careful note of these prices, and on the way home broached the matter to Paul. “What does it mean, Paul, do you think?” she asked. Paul’s wits had been sharpened by his city experience, and he rapidly penetrated the secret. “You always buy through Mrs. Mercer, do you not?” he asked. “Yes; but what of that?” “If I answer it may prejudice you against the housekeeper, and perhaps unjustly.” “Still it is only right that you should tell me.” “Can Mrs. Mercer buy wherever she pleases?” “Yes; I leave the choice of the place to her.” “Is there another grocer in the village?” “Yes; there are two.” “Then I think she charges this grocer a commission for carrying your trade to him, and he makes up for it by charging you a higher price.” “Is that often done?” asked Mrs. Granville, surprised. “Yes, I feel sure of it. I remember one evening in the city listening to a conversation between two coachmen employed in private families. They were boasting of the amount of their commissions obtained from blacksmiths, dealers in hay and oats, and so on.” “But that is dishonest,” said the old lady, indignantly. “They don’t look upon it in that way,” answered Paul. “And do you agree with them?” asked the old lady, half suspiciously. “No, I don’t,” answered Paul, promptly. “I think they ought to be satisfied with their wages.” “You are right. As for Mrs. Mercer and Frost, they are paid more than most employers would pay, for I am rich, and, thank Heaven, not mean.” “Don’t condemn them without feeling certain,” said Paul; “I may be wrong in their case.” “I won’t feel satisfied until I have ferreted the matter out,” said Mrs. Granville. She was very good and liberal, but any attempt at imposition made her very angry. “How will you find out?” “You will see.” The old lady relapsed into silence, and was evidently busy with her thoughts. When she reached home, she called Paul’s services into requisition. “Paul,” she said, “open the drawer of my bureau--the upper drawer--and take out a file of bills you will find in the left hand corner.” Paul did so. “They are Mr. Talbot’s bills.” Mr. Talbot was the grocer whose store she had left. “Now we will compare the bills with the prices I heard being charged to the customers who were being waited on in the store.” This she did with Paul’s help.