Thus commented honest Cato upon this unusual step of his master’s, whose general habits were so regular that each day he went through the same routine of eating, sleeping, smoking, reading, and walking or riding. He had never gone out in an evening before. Cato had cause, therefore, for marvel; and leaving him to his conjectures on the motive for this strange movement on the part of his master, we will follow him on his expedition. The evening was clear but cold and windy, and he wrapped his coat closer about his person as he entered Chesnut street from Sixth, and took his way past the hotel and theatre which were brilliant with lamps, and gay and lively with the moving things about their doors. Heedless of these, he kept on until he came to Third street, which he followed north for a few doors, where he stopped beneath a lamp and turned back the cape of his surtout, arranged his slightly awry cravat, and made such other little toilet reparations as young gentlemen are accustomed to do before going into a house to pay a visit to ladies. Having _fixed_ himself to his satisfaction, though without a mirror, (men of taste are a glass to themselves!) he walked more deliberately onward and entered a door over which hung a sign reading “Mrs. Phelps’ Gentlemen’s Linen Store.” A very pleasant looking widow-like person presided in the brilliantly lighted shop behind the counter, while there were glimpses of two or three girls at their work in the rear room, and a little old woman in spectacles tying up bundles—doubtless the identical “old woman” whom the Major had imagined he was talking to as the bearer of his package. “Good evening, Mrs. Phelps,” said the Major politely. “Ah, Major Pierpoint, good evening, sir,” said Mrs. Phelps with very great respect, for the Major was a monied customer and never disputed bills! “Lord me! I hope you haven’t come after the shirts!” she said with apologetic volubility; “they have been gone this half hour! I was so hurried, Major, I couldn’t get them done at the precise hour you ordered them, though I know you are so very particular. But soon as they came into the shop, lest you should get impatient, as your black man said you were going out of town early in the morning, I despatched one of my apprentices right off with ’em, knowing she would go quicker than aunt Dolly here, who is always mighty slow in cold weather. If you come right from home you ought to had ’em there! If Mary has taken that bundle of hemmed handkerchiefs to Miss Clayton’s first, I shall give her a good scolding; for I told her, Major, pertickerlaly, to go and leave your package first.” “Never mind all this, my good woman,” exclaimed the Major as soon as he could find an opening in her speech; “I have received the shirts, and am very well satisfied with them! They do you credit.”