“But I saw the child entering this house with you.”
“What if you did?” demanded Peg, defiantly.
“I was about,” said the artist, perceiving that he was misapprehended, and desiring to set matters right, “I was about to make a proposition which might prove advantageous to both of us.”
“Eh!” said Peg, catching at the hint. “Tell me what it is, and perhaps we may come to terms.”
“It is simply this,” said Bowen, “I am, as I told you, an artist. Just now I am employed to sketch a flower-girl, and in seeking for a face such as I wished to sketch from, I was struck by that of your child.”
“Of Ida?”
“Yes, if that is her name. I will pay you five dollars for the privilege of copying it.”
Peg was fond of money, and the prospect of earning five dollars through Ida's instrumentality, so easily, blinded her to the possibility that this picture might prove a means of discovery to her friends.
“Well,” said she, more graciously, “if that's all you want, I don't know as I have any objections. I suppose you can copy her face here as well as anywhere.”
“I should prefer to have her come to my studio.”