And I don't well know what you'll find to do in this little shop.

The business might be better; yes, might be better.

You won't have much practice in dispensing, I'm afraid, unless things improve.

It is mostly hair-oil,--and the patent medicines.

It's a poor look-out for you, Julian." There was a silence.
"Harriet isn't quite well yet, is she ?" Smales went on, half to himself.
"No, she looked poorly to-night." "Julian," began the other, but paused, rubbing his hands more nervously than ever.
"Yes, uncle ?" "I wonder what 'ud become of her if I--if I died now?
You're growing up, and you're a clever lad; you'll soon be able to shift for yourself.
But what'll Harriet do?
If only she had her health.