Mr. Harding spoke to him curtly, bidding him hold himself in readiness to carry Mousey's box upstairs on its arrival, and placed four coppers on the counter, the fee for the town porter.
"He'll want sixpence, sir," remarked the lad.
"I've arranged to pay him fourpence," Mr. Harding explained, "and he'll be amply paid for his labour. Anyone in particular called during my absence, Monday?"
"No, sir," was the response; "only a few brooches left for new pins, and a couple of watches to be cleaned."
"Very well. This is my cousin, who is to make her home here. Mousey, this is my assistant, John Monday."
Mousey held out her hand shyly. John Monday glanced at her doubtfully for a moment, then shook hands vigorously, and hoped she was well.
She thought he was quite the ugliest boy she had ever seen; and indeed he was very plain, being tall and lanky, with irregular features. His wide, straight mouth seemed almost to reach from ear to ear; his eyebrows and eyelashes were red; and his head was covered with a crop of thick, matted, red hair. He was clad in a threadbare suit of clothes which he had evidently outgrown, for his bony wrists were bare, and his trousers were inches above his shabby boots.
Mr. Harding next led Mousey into a little parlour at the back of the shop, from which it was separated by a glass door. A lace curtain hung in front of the door, but one could easily see through it what was going on in the shop. It was the dullest room Mousey had ever been in, the outlook from the window being a yard, across which a clothes-line laden with linen was suspended between two poles.
The child's heart beat almost painfully as she looked around the cheerless apartment, noting the shabby Brussels carpet, the common wooden chairs ranged stiffly against the walls, and the crumpled cloth covering the table, on which were spread the tea-things, a loaf of bread, a pat of butter, and a jar of jam.
A middle-aged woman now entered the room, whom Mr. Harding introduced as Maria. Mousey knew she must be the servant, although she wore no cap. She was a small, spare woman with pinched features and a colourless complexion. She greeted Mousey kindly, and after the town porter had arrived, and John Monday had carried the little girl's box upstairs, she asked her if she would not like to remove her outdoor garments.