"I certainly cannot recommend this," she said. "It's too old. We"--she suppressed a laugh that nearly choked her, as she found the familiar expression on her lips--"we shall be getting some in next week." "It's twa month sin' I got the last," said the woman severely. "It doesna seem vera business-like tae be sellin' the same stuff yet." "That is true," said Mona frankly. "It must have been overlooked. I suppose there are other shops in the town where you can get what you want. If not, you can depend on getting it here this day week. Can I show you anything else?" "Not that there is a single thing in the shop I can show with much satisfaction to myself," she added mentally. The woman frowned. "I want some knittin'-needles the size o' that," she said, laying a half-finished stocking on the counter. Mona drew a long breath of relief. Knitting-needles could not go bad like elastic; and if they were rusty, she could rub them up with emery-paper. She opened the box with considerable satisfaction, but to her dismay she found needles of all sizes mixed up in inextricable confusion, and the bit of notched metal with which she had seen shopkeepers determine the size was missing. She knew this exacting old woman would never allow her to depend on her eye, and she hunted here, there, and everywhere, in vain. She preserved her calmness outwardly, but her forehead was moist with anxiety, when at length, mere by good luck than good guidance, she opened the cash-drawer and found in it the missing gauge. Poor Mona! She experienced the same sense of relief that she had sometimes felt in the anatomy-room, when a nerve, of which she had given up all hope, appeared sound and entire in her dissection. With some difficulty she found four needles of the same size, and wrapping them neatly in paper, she gave them to her customer. She was proceeding to open the door, but the old woman seemed to have something more to say. "I aye like to gie my custom to Miss Simpson," she said, "But what like way is this tae manage? And ye seem tae be new tae the business yersel'." "I am," said Mona, "but I am very willing to learn. If you will have a little patience, you will find that in time I shall improve." She spoke with absolute sincerity. She had forgotten that her life stretched out beyond the limits of this narrow shop; she felt herself neither more nor less than what she was at the moment--a very inefficient young shopkeeper. "Weel, there's nae sayin'. I'll be back this day week for that elastic;" and Mona bowed her first customer out. She stood for a minute or two, with her eyes fixed on the floor, in a brown study. "Well," she said at last, "if any lady or gentleman thinks that shopkeeping is child's-play, I am prepared to show that lady or gentleman a thing or two!"