"I wonder if they are real paintings?" she said.
"You might almost think she is a magician, or a fairy godmother, or something or other," said Mrs. Austin. "Oh, yes, they are saleable goods, for she gets lots of money for them--I know she does. She told me she was getting on so well that she could give me half a crown a week more for the garret, and would be glad to do that, for she liked it so much."
"I am very glad to hear it," said Doris kindly. "You deserve every penny, dear Mrs. Austin."
"Eh! dear, there's no one like you, Miss Anderson. I am well off to have two such lodgers--one that pays so much, and the other that upholds me with good words."
Another evening she said to Doris, "Do you know, miss, I heard a dealer saying to Miss Sinclair to-day, 'Well, I'll buy as many dozens of that picture as you can do for me."'
"Dozens of that picture!" Doris opened her eyes widely. Dozens? What was this artist who painted dozens of paintings all alike?
"I'm afraid, miss," continued Mrs. Austin, reading her thoughts, "that although the paintings do seem really beautiful to me when I get a glimpse of them from the garret door, or pass them as they are being carried out of the house, they are not what may be called genuine works of art. Still, they're very pretty: and they bring in lots of money!--and what more do you want?"
What indeed? Dealers would not buy the painstaking efforts of amateur artists, and yet they flocked to a garret to purchase dozens of pictures, which, to put it mildly, could not be called genuine works of art. The public must buy these things, or the dealers would not want them.
"What a strange girl Miss Sinclair must be!" thought Doris, "to work away at that sort of thing all alone. And she must be clever, too. I wonder how she does it, and why she does it?"
Doris was soon to know. Her work grew slack at the ironmonger's shop. A rival firm in the same street had started selling tissue paper lamp-shades, which were prettier than those Doris made, and cheaper also. Messrs. Boothby & Barton tried to do it as cheaply but failed, although they reduced Doris's wages and bought commoner tissue paper for less money. Doris tried to improve her shades, or at least copy those in the rival shop, but could do neither well, and, disheartened and dissatisfied, her work grew irksome to her.