“A good idea,” said the governess, much cheered to find Sibyl, in her opinion, human after all. “We will certainly go there and will choose a beautiful toy.”
“Well, this is the turning, come along,” said Sibyl.
“But why should we go to Holman’s, there is a splendid toy-shop in this street.”
“I’d much rather go to Mr. Holman’s.”
Miss Winstead did not expostulate any further. Presently they reached the shabby little shop. Mr. Holman, the owner of the shop, was a special friend of the child’s. He had once or twice, charmed by her sympathetic way, confided some of his griefs to her. He found it, he told her, extremely difficult to make the toy-shop pay; and Sibyl, in consequence, considered it her bounden duty to spend every half-penny she could spare at this special shop. She entered now, went straight up to the counter and held out her hand.
“How do you do, Mr. Holman,” she said; “I hope I find you quite well.”
“Thank you, Missy; I am in the enjoyment of good health,” replied the shopman, flushing with pleasure and grasping the little hand.
“I am glad of that,” answered Sibyl. “I have come, Mr. Holman, to buy a big thing, it will do your shop a lot of good. I am going to spend twenty shillings in your shop. What would you like me to buy?”
“You thought a doll’s house,” interrupted Miss Winstead, who stood behind the child.