“Very well, father, I will go out for a little time; and I shall look in and have a chat with James Holl. I don’t suppose I shall be more than an hour gone.”
In a few minutes, Carry came down dressed for her walk; and with a parting nod to her father, went out. First down into Knightsbridge. Here she spent some little time in looking at the tempting displays in the shop windows. Oh that she had but money that she might go in and make unlimited purchases! Fancy, too, how exactly that bonnet would suit her complexion, and how well she should look in that Indian shawl! And so Carry walked up the hill as far as the Duke’s. Turning here she retraced her steps to Sloane Street, and thence, striking into the narrow streets, was soon at the Holls’ door. After a preliminary knock with her hand, she lifted the latch and entered.
There were only three persons in the room. The crippled lad was at the window, to which he had wheeled up his box, partly to enable him to see out, partly for the benefit of the light for his work. On a table in front of him were a number of thin sheets of wax of various colours, a few paints and brushes, some wire and modelling tools, and some exquisite wax flowers which he had finished, with others in different stages of progress, upon which he was still engaged. Two little girls were standing beside him, with books in their hands, and one of them was reading aloud, while he listened and corrected her as he worked. A little impatiently, perhaps, which was very unusual for him, but on the table near him was an algebra, part of Evan’s present, which he had only received the day before. It was open, but was lying with its face downwards, and it was evident, by the glances which he cast in that direction, that he was longing to continue his study. He looked up when his visitor entered, and a bright flush of pleasure came across his face.
“How do you do, Miss Carry? It seems quite a time since you were here last.”
“Not more than a week, James; and how are you, and where is Mrs. Holl?”
“I am quite well, Miss Carry. Mother has gone out for the day; but please sit down for a little while, you know what pleasure a talk with you always gives me.”
The girl kissed the children, and then drew up a chair and sat down by him.
“Thank you,” he said, “You see I am hearing Jessie and Loo their lessons. There, children, that will do for this morning; put away your books and go and play, but don’t make a noise.” The little girls gladly did as they were told, and were soon sitting on two low stools in front of the fire, busy playing with two dolls, so old and battered that their clothes might be put on at pleasure either way, there being no distinguishable difference between their faces and the backs of their heads.
“What lovely flowers, James! I can’t think how you can do them without a copy.”
“No more I could, Miss Carry. Father knows one of the men in the flower shop just as you get into Hans Place from Sloane Street, and he often brings me one, and I copy it at once and put it by till I want to make some of that sort.”