CHAPTER LVII.
Nervous Look--The Bookseller's Wife--The Last Stake--Terms--God Forbid!--Will You Come to Tea ?--A Light Heart.
On arriving at the bookseller's shop, I cast a nervous look at the window, for the purpose of observing whether the paper had been removed or not.

To my great delight the paper was in its place; with a beating heart I entered, there was nobody in the shop; as I stood at the counter, however, deliberating whether or not I should call out, the door of what seemed to be a back-parlour opened, and out came a well-dressed lady-like female, of about thirty, with a good-looking and intelligent countenance.
"What is your business, young man ?" said she to me, after I had made her a polite bow.

"I wish to speak to the gentleman of the house," said I.
"My husband is not within at present," she replied; "what is your business ?" "I have merely brought something to show him," said I, "but I will call again." "If you are the young gentleman who has been here before," said the lady, "with poems and ballads, as, indeed, I know you are," she added, smiling, "for I have seen you through the glass door, I am afraid it will be useless; that is," she added with another smile, "if you bring us nothing else." "I have not brought you poems and ballads now," said I, "but something widely different; I saw your advertisement for a tale or a novel, and have written something which I think will suit; and here it is," I added, showing the roll of paper which I held in my hand.

"Well," said the bookseller's wife, "you may leave it, though I cannot promise you much chance of its being accepted.

My husband has already had several offered to him; however, you may leave it; give it me.