An inspiration seized the woman, and she advanced to the window. "Take care!" called out Humphrey, to the woman's great surprise, as she began to take down some things. "Please don't," he continued, in an agony, as, startled by his shout, she remained, with a compass in one hand and a purse in the other. "Father's out there, and he'll see what you take down, and guess it's for his birthday present." The woman humbly begged his pardon, but it was too late; Humphrey would not look at either purse or compass. "You've spoilt it all," he said; "he must have seen." He remained leaning disconsolately against the counter, gazing with no friendly eye on the rapidly increasing heap of goods which the patient woman produced from all corners of the shop for his inspection. "Have you got a husband?" he asked, suddenly. To Humphrey's horror, the woman put up her apron to her eyes, and began to cry. "Oh! I'm _so_ sorry," said he; "I didn't mean to make you cry, really. I see now you've got a cap on, so of course he's dead. I'm _very_ sorry he's dead," he continued after a pause, "because I was going to say perhaps he would have been able to tell me what a grown-up man would like." Then, afraid he had been unfeeling, he added, "Of course, I'm sorry too, because it seems to make you unhappy. You don't remember, I suppose," he went on, doubtfully, and eyeing the widow carefully, to see how far he might go without fear of a fresh outburst, "what he used to like for his birthday presents?" The woman cast her thoughts back to the memory of the defunct, and the prominent idea connected with him being tobacco-smoke, she suggested a cigar-case. Humphrey was delighted at the idea. "You don't mean to say they're in the window!" he exclaimed in despair. The widow was obliged to admit that it was too true. "What are we to do!" said Humphrey, dejectedly. "I know!" he added, the next moment running to the door. "Father!" he shouted, "would you mind turning your head away for a minute, because we're going to get something out of the window." Sir Everard immediately became engrossed with the door of the opposite public-house, to the great discomfiture of one of his gardeners, who was issuing therefrom, slightly inebriated, and had been doing his best to escape the baronet's notice. Humphrey was delighted with the cigar-cases. They were so brilliant in their embroidered covers. He was particularly attracted by the smallest and smartest. "It will hold so very few cigars," suggested the woman, "had you not better have a larger one?" "Oh, that doesn't matter the least," said Humphrey, "because father doesn't smoke. As long as it is smart and pretty to put into his pocket, it will do very well. Wrap it up, please, so as to hide it quite, in case he should guess by the shape." The widow wrapped it in several covers, and Humphrey left the shop.