A young lady, almost of a height with me, was standing by my side, while a stout, elderly lady,--the same lady I had seen on the veranda over the way,--was filling the doorway. I was messy all over with flour dust, brown earth from the potato sacks, grease and grime. I had slipped at the water edge while assisting the loggers to load their goods, and this did not contribute to the improvement of my personal appearance. I wiped my hands on my damp overalls, and my hands came out of the contact worse than before. "I wish to see the manager," demanded the melodious voice, its owner raising her skirts and displaying,--ah, well!--and stepping over some excelsior packing which lay in her way. "Your wish is granted, lady," I answered. "Are you the manager?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in unfeigned astonishment. "I have that honour, madam," I responded with a bow, but not daring to look at her face in my then dishevelled state. "I am Miss Grant," she said. "Miss Grant! Pleased to meet you." I shoved out a grimy paw, like the fool I was. When it was too late, I remembered my position and brought the paw back to my side. The young lady had already drawn herself up with an undefinable dignity. It was a decided snub, and well merited, so I could hardly blame her. I saw, in the hurried glimpse I got of her then, that she was hatless and that her hair was a great crown of wavy, burnished gold, radiating in the sunlight that streamed through the doorway despite the obstruction of the young lady's companion. "It is our intention to live at Golden Crescent for some time, sir. I understand we may purchase our supplies here?" "Yes! madam,--miss." I backed, in order to get round to my proper side of the counter. But, unfortunately, I backed without looking; I stumbled over an empty box and sprawled like a clown into the corner, landing incontinently among bundles of brooms and axe handles. Never in all my life did I feel so insignificant or so foolish as then. The very devil himself seemed to have set his picked imps after me; for it was my habit, ordinarily, to be neither dirty as I was then, nor clownish as I must have appeared. To put it mildly, I was deeply embarrassed, and at a woman, too. Oh! the degradation of it. As I rose, I fancied that my ears caught the faintest tinkle of a laugh. I turned my frowning eyes on the young lady, but she was a very owl for inscrutable solemnity. I looked over at the elderly person in the doorway; she was smiling upon me with a most exasperating benignity. "What kind of business do you run here?" asked the self-possessed young lady. "Strictly cash, miss,--excepting the Camps and the better class of settlers." "I did not inquire _how_ you ran your business, but what kind of business you ran," she retorted icily. "Of course,--we shall pay as we purchase."