"I must get that situation in Oxford Street," muttered the girl to herself. "I shall feel fit to kill those two if ever they are wed, and the further I am off the better." Her angry and excited feelings gave her courage, and she was able to ask a comparative stranger--a girl who scarcely knew her--if she could see Mr. Shaw. "I am afraid you cannot to-day," was the reply. "The manager is too busy, but if you like to call again----" "No, no, I see him there. I'll ask him myself," was the reply. "Lor', what cheek!" muttered the new shop-girl; but Alison was too far away to hear her. She had approached Mr. Shaw as he was wishing one of his customers "A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year." He turned round with a smile on his lips. Things were doing remarkably well, and he could afford to be cheerful. Suddenly his rather staring, bloodshot eyes encountered the full gaze of Alison's clear blue ones. "Eh, Miss Reed?" he said, stepping back in astonishment. "Yes, sir; can I speak to you?" said Alison. "Certainly, my dear, certainly; come this way. She has found out who the thief is, and will come back once more," muttered the manager to himself. "She's the best and most attractive shopwoman I ever had; she shall come back immediately after Christmas." He hurried Alison through the shop into his own little counting-house. He shut the door then, and asked her to seat herself. "How are you?" he said, fixing his eyes with a sort of coarse admiration on her face. "You have got at the truth of this miserable matter, have you not? Now, I wonder who the thief is, eh? Well, all I can say is this: I am right glad that you know. We miss you, Miss Reed, in the shop. Your services have been of great value to us. I shall have the person who took that money prosecuted; there's not the least doubt about that. Your character will be abundantly cleared, and you can resume your post here immediately after the Christmas holidays." "I thought," said Alison, "that you had got someone else to fill my place." "So I have, so I have--that Jenkins girl--the daughter of poor Tom Jenkins, who died in the autumn; but, bless you, she's no good; she don't even know the meaning of drawing on a customer! You see, Miss Reed, I don't mean to flatter you, but you have got the tact, and just when the sales are beginning you will be invaluable. I can offer you a percentage on all the remnants you dispose of. Come, now, that's a bargain; you'll be right welcome back. You have got tact, and if I may be allowed to say so--_looks_." Here the manager gave Alison another broad stare. "By the way, who is the thief?" he continued. "You quite misunderstand me, sir," said Alison. "I have not found the thief--I have not the faintest idea who stole that money; I only know that I did not, and that nothing will induce me to set foot again in this shop as one of the staff until I am cleared."