What was she going to add? The pedler would have given almost the price of a clock to have had his doubts resolved. “_He_”—did she mean that her husband could decide for himself? So the pedler wished to believe, while his better opinion, judging from her manner, was, that she meant to intimate that her husband would be even more summary—more indifferent he could not appear—more set and determined was impossible. But putting the construction upon her words most favorable to his present interests, he ventured to supply what she had failed to say, “Yes, indeed,” said he, “if Mr. M. were at home, I dare say he wouldn’t lose such a bargain as I would give him.” “_Bargain!_” the pedler had unconsciously used a word of talismanic power the world over. “Bargain!” that word seemed to arrest the woman’s attention—and for the first time she raised her eyes and fairly looked at the clock. And so it happened, that, at this critical moment in the history of that clock, and in the proceedings of the pedler in relation to a sale of it, it struck one, two, three, up to eleven. Its tones were soft, musical, attractive. It ceased—and for a moment there was silence, but it was soon interrupted by the woman’s adding, “It certainly strikes prettily!” The ecstasy of the pedler was near being betrayed; but it was for his interest to conceal his pleasure, and so rising, he moved toward the clock, saying, “Its striking _is_ good—better, I think myself, than is common;” at the same time opening the door and pulling the striking wire, upon which its musical tones filled the room. “It does sound well,” said the woman. “Good!” whispered the pedler to himself. “Havn’t there recently been some improvements in clock-making?” asked the woman. “Better and better,” thought the pedler—“Madam,” said he, rousing from his transient reverie, and responding to her question, “you asked me about improvements? O yes, divers improvements—clocks are made now-a-days in great perfection, and very cheap—but—I was about making a proposition in reference to that clock—” but he was cut short in the very sentence— “I can save you all trouble of that sort,” said the woman, “I may take none of your clocks.” “There again,” thought the pedler, “all aback!” and now, how to retrieve lost ground, he was quite at a loss. But a second thought came to his aid. The language of the woman was peculiar—“I _may_ take none.” “Madam!” the pedler resumed, and with some little more assurance, “I was going to put this clock to you on such terms as that _you_ may, or any other woman in the wide world might take it.” The woman listened. She raised her hand to her forehead—she hesitated—she seemed inclined to ask a question, and at length she did inquire— “How do you sell your clocks?”