After a few intricate turnings and windings, the carriage stopped before a large linendraper's, which stood amidst a colony of shops nearly a mile from Miss Deveen's. George came round to open the door. "Now what will you do, Johnny?" said Miss Deveen. "I daresay I shall be half an hour in here, looking at silks and calico; and I won't inflict that penalty on you. Shall the carriage take you for a short drive the while, or will you wait in it?--or walk about?" "I will wait in the street here," I said, "and come in to you when I am tired. I like looking at shops." And I do like it. The next shop to the linendraper's was a carver and gilder's: he had some good pictures displayed in his window; at any rate, they looked good to me: and there I took up my station to begin with. "How do you do, sir? Have you forgotten me?" The words came from a young man who stood at the next door, close to me, causing me to turn quickly to him from gazing at the pictures. No, I had not forgotten him. I knew him instantly. It was Owen, the milkman. After a few words had passed, I went inside. It was a large shop, well fitted up with cans and things pertaining to a milkman's business. The window-board was prettily set off with moss, ferns, a bowl containing gold and silver fish, a miniature fountain, and a rush basket of fresh eggs. Over the door was his own name, Thomas Owen. "You are living here, Owen?" "Yes, sir." "But why have you left Saltwater?" "Because, Mr. Johnny, the place looked askance at me. People, in their own minds, set down that miserable affair at No. 7 to my credit. Once or twice I was hooted at by the street boys, asking what I had done with Jane Cross. My mother couldn't stand that, and I couldn't stand it, so we just sold our business at Saltwater, and bought this one here. And a good change it has been, in a pecuniary point of view: this is an excellent connection, and grows larger every day." "I'm sure I am glad to hear it." "At first, mother couldn't bear London: she longed for the country air and the green fields: but she is reconciled to it now. Perhaps she'll have an opportunity soon of going back to see her own old Welsh mountains, and of staying there if it pleases her." "Then I should say you are going to be married, Owen." He laughed and nodded. "You'll wish me good luck, won't you, sir? She's the only daughter at the next door, the grocer's." "That I will. Have you discovered anymore of that mysterious business, Owen?" "At Saltwater? No, sir: not anything at all that could touch the matter itself. But I have heard a good bit that bears upon it." "Do you still suspect that Matilda could tell if she chose?" "I suspect more than that, sir." The man's words were curiously significant. He had a bit of fern in his hand, and his fresh, open, intelligent face was bent downwards, as if he wanted to see what the leaf was made of. "I am not sure, sir. It is but suspicion at the best: but it's an uncommonly strong one."