“Humph, you write too pretty a hand for an apprentice girl,” said Miss Clayton, glancing contemptuously at Mary’s beautiful chirography. “I dare say you can dance too?” “Yes, Miss,” said Mary slightly smiling. “And sing and play,” more contemptuously still. “Yes, Miss.” “Humph. Read Byron, Moore, Scott, doubtless, and perhaps the French poets?” she continued with a contemptuous smile of incredulity. “Yes, Miss.” “Yes, Miss. I suppose if I should ask you if you read French and sung Italian, you would reply with your parrot phrase, ‘yes, Miss.’” “Yes, Miss.” “Upon my word! Ha, ha, ha! here’s a linen-draper’s apprentice for you! I suppose you look to marry some nobleman at the least, with all them accomplishments, if you can! What package is that beneath your arm, my pretty minx,” for Miss Clayton had conceived a sudden and unaccountable (save that her youth and beauty were the cause,) dislike for Mary. And without waiting for a reply she snatched it from her. “_For_ Major Leslie Pierpoint, No. 27, South Sixth St.” “You are sent with this to Major Pierpoint’s, are you?” she asked sharply and with a suspicious look at the young and guileless girl. “Yes m’m,” answered Mary quietly. Miss Clayton let her eyes rest on the superscription for a few moments, and then lifted them steadily to the face of the maiden. “You had best return directly to your shop with the amount of your mistress’ bill, lest you lose it on the way. I will dispatch my footman with this package to his lodgings.” “I thank you, but I am ordered to take it there myself,” said Mary firmly. “Indeed; but it would not be prudent for so young a person as you to go to a bachelor’s rooms alone. I will send it for you. Do you know Major Pierpoint?” “No, m’m,” answered Mary with embarrassment. “Have you never seen him?” “He was in the shop last evening,” answered Mary evasively. “Did he speak to you?” “If you please I will take the package and go,” said Mary, half angry at this singular inquisition upon her affairs. “Take it, trollop,” said Miss Clayton, flinging it towards her, “and tell your mistress when she has occasion to send any one to me again, she will oblige me by sending some civil person.” Mary stared with surprise, at a loss to account for the lady’s humor, and gladly took her departure. The heavy tocsin of the State House had struck the last stroke of twelve, as Mary timidly pulled the bell at Major Pierpoint’s handsome residence. It was opened by Cato.