The young man tendered some scrap of paper and a sixpence.

“Only sixpence!” said the girl.

A cabman could not have made the complaint with a more finished accent of rapacious disgust.

“Never mind,” said the girl, “I’ll give you an answer.”

Then, with inky fingers and dirty hands, she tendered him some scrawl, and demanded five shillings postage. “Five shillings!” said the young man. “Oh, I’m d—”

Then he gave her a shilling and walked away. She ventured to give one little halloa after him, but she caught the duchess’s eye looking at her, and was quiet.

I don’t think there was much real flirting done. Men won’t flirt with draggled girls, smirched with dust, weary with work, and soiled with heat; and especially they will not do so at the rate of a shilling a word. When the whole thing was over, Mrs Chaucer Munro’s bevy, lying about on the benches in fatigue before they went away, declared that, as far as they were concerned, the thing was a mistake. The expenditure in gloves and muslin had been considerable, and the returns to them had been very small. It is not only that men will not flirt with draggled girls, but they will carry away with them unfortunate remembrances of what they have seen and heard. Upon the whole it may be doubted whether any of the bevies were altogether contented with the operations on the occasion of the Negro Soldiers’ Orphan Bazaar.

Miss Mackenzie had been, perhaps, more fortunate than some of the others. It must, however, be remembered that there are two modes of conducting business at these bazaars. There is the travelling merchant, who roams about, and there is the stationary merchant, who remains always behind her counter. It is not to be supposed that the Duchess of St Bungay spent the afternoon rushing about with a lucky bag. The duchess was a stationary trader, and so were all the ladies who belonged to the Mackenzie booth. Miss Mackenzie, the lamb, had been much regarded, and consequently the things at her disposal had been quickly sold. It had all seemed to her to be very wonderful, and as the fun grew fast and furious, as the young girls became eager in their attacks, she made up her mind that she would never occupy another stall at a bazaar. One incident, and but one, occurred to her during the day; and one person came to her that she knew, and but one. It was nearly six, and she was beginning to think that the weary work must soon be over, when, on a sudden, she found Sir John Ball standing beside her.

“Oh, John!” she said, startled by his presence, “who would have thought of seeing you here?”

“And why not me as well as any other fool of my age?”

“Because you think it is foolish,” she answered, “and I suppose the others don’t.”

“Why should you say that I think it foolish? At any rate, I’m glad to see you looking so nice and happy.”