"Good-day, Mrs. Gaston," said he, looking up, while not a feature relaxed on his cold, rigid countenance. "I've brought you in six pairs of pants," said the woman, untying the bundle she had laid upon the counter. "You had seven pair, ma'am." "I know that, Mr. Berlaps. But only six are finished; and, as I want some money, I have brought them in." "It is more than a week since we gave them out. You ought to have had the whole seven pair done. We want them all now. They should have been in day before yesterday." "They would have been finished, Mr. Berlaps," said the woman, in a deprecating tone; "but one of my children has been sick, and I have had to be up with her so often every night, and have had to attend to her so much through the day, that I have not been able to do more than half work." "Confound the children!" muttered the tailor to himself, as he began inspecting the woman's work. "They're always getting sick, or something else." After carefully examining three or four pairs of the coarse trowsers which had been brought in, he pushed the whole from him with a quick impatient gesture and an angry scowl, saying, as he did so-- "Botched to death! I can't give you work unless it's done better, Mrs. Gaston. You grow worse and worse!" "I know, sir," replied the woman, in a troubled voice, "that they are not made quite so well as they might be. But consider how much I have had against me. A sick child--and worn out by attendance on her night and day." "It's always a sick child, or some other excuse with the whole of you. But that don't answer me. I want my work done well, and I mean to have it so. If you don't choose to turn out good work, I can find a plenty who will." "You sha'n't complain of me hereafter, Mr. Berlaps," replied the woman, submissively. "So you have said before. But we shall see." Berlaps then turned moodily to his desk, and resumed the employment he had broken off when the seamstress came in, while she stood with her hands folded across each other, awaiting his pleasure in regard to the payment of the meagre sum she had earned by a full week of hard labor, prolonged often to a late hour in the night. She had stood thus, meekly, for nearly five minutes, when Berlaps raised his head, and looking at her sternly over the top of his desk, said-- "What are you waiting for, Mrs. Gaston?" "I should like to have the money for the pants I have brought in. I am out of every"-- "I never pay until the whole job is done. Bring in the other pair, and you can have your money." "Yes; but Mr. Berlaps"---- "You needn't talk anything about it, madam. You have my say," was the tailor's angry response.