"Hattie, " said the clerk at the blanket counter in the department stora speaking rapidly and in an nndertone, "just a moment. Will yon - what is it, sir? Harness department? Six aisles down - Hattie, do you think you could - furniture, madam? Third floor. Take theelevator - Hattie, I'd liketo know - handkerchiefs, ma'am? Third counter to your right. Blankets, sir? Right here. Wait on you in a moment - Hattie, will you marry me?" "Yes, Torn," whispered the girl at the notion counter, still tapping with her pencil ou the showcase.