"Didn't you?"
"No; it was painted by a young man, as poor as poverty, who is obliged to work for any sum people are willing to pay. Fancy, I only paid twenty dollars."
"Only twenty dollars?"
"Yes; he wanted more, of course, and it took him three or four weeks to paint it, but that was all I would pay. Pa gave me fifty dollars to pay for a portrait, so I made thirty dollars out of it," said the selfish girl, complacently.
"I should think he would starve—the artist, I mean."
"He did look dreadfully seedy, but that was nothing to me, you know."
"I'm a great mind to get him to paint my portrait."
"You'd better. Let him know that you are a friend of mine, and the price I paid, and he will paint yours for the same."
"I will. What is his address?"
"No.—State street."