“Good business,” Tembarom replied. Already he felt relieved. “I've got a relation, a little old lady, and I want her to fix herself out just as she ought to be fixed. Now, what I'm afraid of is that she won't get everything she ought to unless I manage it for her somehow beforehand. She's got into a habit of--well, economizing. Now the time's past for that, and I want her to get everything a woman like you would know she really wants, so that she could look her best, living in a big country house, with a relation that thinks a lot of her.” He paused a second or so, and then went further, fixing a clear and astonishingly shrewd eye upon the head of the department listening to him. “I found out this was a high-class place,” he explained. “I made sure of that before I came in. In a place that was second or third class there might be people who'd think they'd caught a 'sucker' that would take anything that was unloaded on to him, because he didn't know. The things are for Miss Temple Barholm, and she DOES know. I shall ask her to come here herself to-morrow morning, and I want you to take care of her, and show her the best you've got that's suitable.” He seemed to like the word; he repeated it--“Suitable,” and quickly restrained a sudden, unexplainable, wide smile. The attending lady's name was Mrs. Mellish. Thirty years' experience had taught her many lessons. She was a hard woman and a sharp one, but beneath her sharp hardness lay a suppressed sense of the perfect in taste. To have a customer with unchecked resources put into her hands to do her best by was an inspiring incident. A quiver of enlightenment had crossed her countenance when she had heard the name of Temple Barholm. She had a newspaper knowledge of the odd Temple Barholm story. This was the next of kin who had blacked boots in New York, and the obvious probability that he was a fool, if it had taken the form of a hope, had been promptly nipped in the bud. The type from which he was furthest removed was that of the fortune-intoxicated young man who could be obsequiously flattered into buying anything which cost money enough. “Not a thing's to be unloaded on her that she doesn't like,” he added, “and she's not a girl that goes to pink teas. She's a--a--lady--and not young--and used to quiet ways.” The evidently New York word “unload” revealed him to his hearer as by a flash, though she had never heard it before. “We have exactly the things which will be suitable, sir,” she said. “I think I quite understand.” Tembarom smiled again, and, thanking her, went away still smiling, because he knew Miss Alicia was safe.