"Mr. Silver, this is Mr. Joses," said the girl.
The difference between the two men amused her: the one clean, keen, beautifully appointed, like a horse got up for a show, the other shaggy and sloppy as a farmyard beast.
"Very pleased to make your acquaintance, sir, I'm sure," grinned the artist, bowing elaborately.
The other responded coldly.
Joses had not made a favourable impression on the young man. Boy saw that at once; and it was not difficult to see. For Silver showed his likes and dislikes much as Billy Bluff did.
The girl wished with all her heart that she was standing behind him that she might see if the hair on the back of his neck had risen.
A spirit of mischief overcame her.
"Mr. Joses'll paint your horses for you," she said demurely.
"Delighted, I'm sure," laughed the artist.
"Thank you," said the young man, with a brevity the girl herself could not have surpassed. His shyness had left him, and with it his tendency to stammer.