Madge went into the shop. Mr. Jeffery was talking to a gentleman who stood by the counter; but he turned to serve her as soon as she appeared.
She laid down her money and took her tiny parcel, then said falteringly, while the colour came into her pale cheeks, "Please, sir, is my brother's picture sold yet?"
"No, my dear, nor likely to be," said Mr. Jeffery, laughing.
"Poor Raymond," thought Madge, and as she turned away, she raised her hand to brush away the tears which filled her eyes.
The gentleman who had been standing, now stepped forward and opened the door for the little girl to go out.
She raised her face timidly and said, "Thank you, sir," in a soft, low tone, then hurried off without trusting herself again to look in at the shop window.
"Who's that, Jeffery?"
"A little girl who comes here very often, sir. Her brother paints a little, and he's left a picture here to try and get it sold."
"I should like to have her hair and eyes for a model," the artist said. "Jeffery, if that child comes again send her up to me; she would exactly do for my Ruth."
But it was many and many a long day before little Madge came to that shop again.