The domestic fortunately knew the mysterious operations relative to the opening of a shop. With her assistance Mr Blurt took off the shutters, stowed them away in their proper niche, and threw open the door to the public with an air of invitation, if not hospitality, which deserved a better return than it received. With this news the doctor went back to the sick man. "Mrs Murridge," said Mr Blurt, when the doctor had gone, "would you be so good as mind the shop for a few minutes, while I go up-stairs? If any one should come in, just go to the foot of the stair and give two coughs. I shall hear you." On entering his brother's room, he found him raised on one elbow, with his eyes fixed wildly on the door. "Dear Fred," he said tenderly, hurrying forward; "you must not give way to anxiety, there's a dear fellow. Lie down. The doctor says you'll get well if you only keep quiet." "Ay, but I can't keep quiet," replied the poor old man tremulously, while he passed his hand over the few straggling white hairs that lay on but failed to cover his head. "How can you expect me to keep quiet, Enoch, when my business is all going to the dogs for want of attention? And that boy of mine is such a stupid fellow; he loses or mislays the letters somehow--I can't understand how. There's confusion too somewhere, because I have written several times of late to people who owe me money, and sometimes have got no answers, at other times been told that they _had_ replied, and enclosed cheques, and--" "Come now, dear Fred," said Enoch soothingly, while he arranged the pillows, "do give up thinking about these things just for a little while till you are better, and in the meantime I will look after--" "And he's such a lazy boy too," interrupted the invalid,--"never gets up in time unless I rouse him.--Has the shop been opened, Enoch?" "Yes, didn't the doctor tell you? I always open it myself;" returned Enoch, speaking rapidly to prevent his brother, if possible, from asking after the boy, about whose unfaithfulness he was still ignorant. "And now, Fred, I insist on your handing the whole business over to me for a week or two, just as it stands; if you don't I'll go back to Africa. Why, you've no idea what a splendid shopman I shall make. You seem to forget that I have been a successful diamond-merchant." "I don't see the connection, Enoch," returned the other, with a faint smile. "That's because you've never been out of London, and can't believe in anybody who hasn't been borne or at least bred, within the sound of Bow Bells. Don't you know that diamond-merchants sometimes keep stores, and that stores mean buying and selling, and corresponding, and all that sort of thing? Come, dear Fred, trust me a little--only a little--for a day or two, or rather, I should say, trust God, and try to sleep. There's a dear fellow--come."