I HAVE COME TO RETURN YOU SOMETHING. On the afternoon of the day on which the Queen of the South (with George Naldret in it, as was supposed) sailed out of the Mersey for the southern seas, young Mr. Million, with a small bouquet of choice flowers in his hand, made his appearance in the old grocer's shop. Ben Sparrow, who was sitting behind his counter, jumped up when the young brewer entered, and rubbed his hands and smirked, and comported himself in every way as if a superior being had honoured him with his presence. Young Mr. Million smiled pleasantly, and without the slightest condescension. The cordiality of his manner was perfect. 'Quite a gentleman,' thought old Ben; 'every inch a gentleman!' Said young Mr. Million: 'As I was passing your way, I thought I would drop in to see how you and your granddaughter are.' 'It's very kind and thoughtful of you, sir,' replied old Ben Sparrow. 'Of course, we're a bit upset at George's going. Everything is at sixes and sevens, and will be, I daresay, for a few days. Bessie's inside'--with a jerk of his head in the direction of the parlour--'she's very sad and low, poor dear.' 'We mustn't let her mope, Mr. Sparrow,' remarked young Mr. Million, striking up a partnership at once with the old grocer. 'No, sir,' assented Ben; 'we mustn't let her mope; it ain't good for the young--nor for the old, either. But it's natural she should grieve a bit. You see, sir,' he said confidentially, 'George is the only sweetheart Bessie's ever had. She ain't like some girls, chopping and changing, as if there's no meaning in what they do.' 'We must brighten her up, Mr. Sparrow. It wouldn't be a bad thing, if you were to take her for a drive in the country, one fine day. The fresh air would do her good.' 'It would do her good, sir. But I couldn't leave the shop. Business is dreadfully dull, and I can't afford to lose a chance of taking a few shillings--though, with the way things are cut down, there's very little profit got nowadays. Some things almost go for what they cost. Sugar, for instance. I don't believe I get a ha'penny a-pound out of it.' Young Mr. Million expressed his sympathy, and said it ought to be looked to. He would speak to his father, who was a 'friend of the working-man, you know.' 'I don't know how to thank you, sir,' said Ben gratefully. 'Indeed, I haven't thanked you yet for the kindness you----' 'I don't want to be thanked,' interrupted young Mr. Million vivaciously. 'I hate to be thanked! The fact is, Mr. Sparrow, I am an idle young dog, and it will always give me pleasure to do you any little service in my power. I will go in, and say How do you do? to Miss Sparrow, if you will allow me.' 'Allow you, sir!' exclaimed Ben. 'You're always welcome here.' 'I brought this little bunch of flowers for her. Flowers are scarce now, and the sight of them freshens one up. Although, Mr. Sparrow, your granddaughter is a brighter flower than any in this bunch!'