As it happened, I was not deceived in my conjecture; for it was a full year before I saw my young merchant again. He then appeared as richly appareled as before, but seemed to have something on his spirits. I asked him to do me the honour to walk into my house. "For this time," replied he, "I will: but on this condition, that you shall put yourself to no extraordinary charge on my account." "I will do just as you please," said I, "only do me the favour to alight and walk in." Accordingly he complied. I gave orders to have a repast prepared, and while this was doing, we entered into conversation. All things being ready, we sat down. I observed he took the first mouthful with his left hand, and not with the right. I was at a loss what to think of this. "Ever since I have known this young man," said I inwardly, "he has always appeared very polite; is it possible he can do this out of contempt? What can be the reason he does not use his right hand?"