"If dress-making don't agree with you, not another stitch shall you put in," he said, half angrily. "I think myself you don't look half so well as you used to, and though Miss Gray is as nice a person as one need wish to meet, I think she might have perceived it before this; but interest blinds us all--every one of us," he added, with a philosophic sigh over the weaknesses of humanity. "I know what Jane will be sure to say," observed Mary; "but I don't care." "I should think not! Law! bless you, child, I have got quite beyond troubling my poor brains with what other people thinks; and if I choose to keep my daughter at home now that I can afford to do so, why shouldn't I? It's a hard case, if, when a man's well off and comfortable, and getting on better and better every day--it's a hard case, indeed, if he can't keep his only child with him." This matter decided, Mary went up to her room; her father remained by the fireside, looking at the glowing coals, and dreaming to his heart's content. "If I go on prospering so," he thought, "why should I not take--in time, of course--some smart young fellow to help me in the shop? It stands to reason that customers like to be served quickly. Law, bless you! they hate waiting," he added, thoughtfully, addressing the fire, and giving it a poke, by way of comment, "the ladies always hate it. But, as I was saying, why shouldn't I take some smart young man, and he, of course-- why, I know what he'd do--why, he'd fall in love with Mary, of course-- and why shouldn't he?" inquired Jones, warming with his subject "Was I not a poor fellow once, and did I not marry my master's daughter?" Mr. Jones gave the fire another poke. In the burning coals he saw a pleasing vision rise. He saw his shop full of customers; he served with slow dignity, assisted by a "tight, brisk young fellow," busy as a bee, active as a deer, for it was Saturday night, and the fair maids and matrons of the vicinity were all impatient. Then from Saturday it was Sunday; the shop was closed, the street was silent. Young Thomson was brushing his coat in the yard and whistling; Mary was upstairs dressing; another five minutes, and she comes down in straw bonnet lined with pink, clean printed muslin frock, mousseline-de-laine shawl, brown boots and blue parasol. The happy father saw them going off together with delighted eyes and brimful heart Then other visions follow; one of a wedding breakfast at which Mr. Jones sings a song, and another of half a dozen grandchildren, all tugging at his skirts, whilst he solemnly rocks the baby, and as solemnly informs the infant: "that he had done as much for its mother once." Peace be with such dreams whenever they come to the poor man's hearth! A little surprised at not seeing Mary as usual on the following morning, and thinking she might be unwell, Rachel Gray sent Jane to enquire. Jane soon returned, her face brimful of news. "Well," said Rachel, "how is Mary?"