"No, nor Polly Street, nor Jemima Street."
The boy studied her sharply, but preserved a sullen silence, strongly suspecting that he was being laughed at.
"Will you please tell me?" quite meekly. "And—the man's name."
The boy found a card, and directed her. Charlie trudged on with a light heart.
The place was up two flights of very dirty steps. Mr. Balcour had gone out to dinner, and she was rather glad of an excuse to rest. In the adjoining room there were three girls laughing and chatting. Now, if she could come here to work!
When Mr. Balcour entered, Charlie found him a very pleasant-looking man. She made known her errand with but little hesitation.
"It is something of a mistake," was the smiling answer. "My business is coloring prints, flower-pieces, and all that. Sometimes they are sent to me, but these little things I buy by the hundred or thousand, and color them; then picture-dealers, Sunday-schools, &c., come in here to purchase."
With that he displayed cases of birds, flowers, fancy scenes, and tiny landscapes.
"Oh, how beautiful they are!" and she glanced them over with delight. "I should like to do them!"