'I think we shall be able to set up a plate window soon,' says Josey West, with a grand air. 'The sale of the pills is astonishing, my dear, astonishing! Do you know, Chris, I feel quite like a respectable member of society! I shall soon begin to turn up my nose at play-actors, who are nothing but vagrants, my dear, nothing but vagrants. And they're bad paymasters, Chris; I've two of them on my books already.' When I ask her about Jessie, Josey says that she's all right, and that I have no occasion to bother myself about _her_. I can extract nothing more from her than this, and if I endeavour to press the subject further, she turns snappish. My mother and I have had many conversations about uncle Bryan, and I think one great cause of her contentment is the altered state of my feelings towards him, which I do not disguise from her. I am prospering in a worldly sense, and when I feel most despondent I work the hardest; it is a relief to me. My name has appeared in print, connected with words of praise, and I often wonder whether Jessie has seen it. As for my mother, when I brought home the paper containing the two lines in which my work was spoken of favourably, I thought she would have gone wild with joy. I am afraid to say how many times she must have read the few ordinary words, but, knowing what a delight they are to her, I am glad that I have earned them for her sake. In this way the months roll on. With reference to my feelings towards Jessie, I shall be almost as silent now as I was at home during that time. Sufficient to say that I never forgot her, and that I never loved her less; but her name is rarely mentioned at home. There is one person, however, to whom I speak of Jessie freely--to Turk West. Turk is getting along capitally in his shop, and has already paid off more than half his debt to Mr. Glover. I see this gentleman occasionally in Turk's shop; Turk shaves him, and dresses his hair for him two or three times a week; whenever I go into the shop and see him there, I retire immediately. I have no wish to injure Turk's business, and when I reason calmly over matters I cannot see what tangible ground of complaint I have against Mr. Glover--which does not lessen my detestation of him. 'He is a good customer,' says Turk to me, 'and it will be best for more reasons than one not to offend him. I can't say that I like him--although I try to, Chris, my boy, let me tell you--but I know that he is the soul of honour.' 'How _do_ you know it?' I ask. Turk scratches his head. 'Well, _he_ says it, Chris, my boy, and everybody says it who knows him. He comes from a highly-respectable family.' I can say nothing in opposition, knowing nothing of his family. 'And it is something to be proud of, Chris?' says Turk. 'What _is_, Turk?' 'To be so respectably connected.' 'I suppose so,' I answer indifferently.