But I had forgotten nothing in them, and found nothing changed, until I came to Mr.Omer's shop.

OMER AND Joram was now written up, where OMER used to be; but the inscription, DRAPER, TAILOR, HABERDASHER, FUNERAL FURNISHER, &c., remained as it was.
My footsteps seemed to tend so naturally to the shop door, after I had read these words from over the way, that I went across the road and looked in.

There was a pretty woman at the back of the shop, dancing a little child in her arms, while another little fellow clung to her apron.

I had no difficulty in recognizing either Minnie or Minnie's children.

The glass door of the parlour was not open; but in the workshop across the yard I could faintly hear the old tune playing, as if it had never left off.
'Is Mr.Omer at home ?' said I, entering.