CHAPTER XXXVI.

In due time Laura alighted at the book store, and began to look at the

titles of the handsome array of books on the counter. A dapper clerk of

perhaps nineteen or twenty years, with hair accurately parted and

surprisingly slick, came bustling up and leaned over with a pretty smile

and an affable--

Can I--was there any particular book you wished to see?"

Have you Taine's England?"

Beg pardon?"

Taine's Notes on England."

The young gentleman scratched the side of his nose with a cedar pencil

which he took down from its bracket on the side of his head, and

reflected a moment:

"Ah--I see," [with a bright smile]--"Train, you mean--not Taine. George

Francis Train. No, ma'm we--"

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The Gilded Age