Nelly laughed. She could not help taking courage from this little joke of the old gentleman's.
"Yes, sir; but I put my pin on my waist."
"But twenty-five dollars seems a great deal to earn in such work as that, my girl. Are you sure you are telling me the truth, now?" Nelly did not flinch under the penetrating glance the old gentleman fixed upon her.
"You can ask Mrs. Kirkland herself, sir. I get six shillings a spool, and I can make two spools a week, and sometimes a little more. Mrs. Kirkland has tatting collars worth ten dollars apiece; but I cannot make those yet," she added, modestly. "Miss Powell is going to teach me when she gets time. She has taught me all I know, except to read."
"Oh, indeed! And who taught you to read?"
"Kitty Brown, that lives at Mrs. Powers's, sir."
"Oh! So Kitty taught you to read? And can you write, Nelly?"
"Yes, sir."
"And who taught you that? Miss Powell?"
"No, sir. I learned out of Kitty's old copy-books. Miss Powell showed me a little, though; and I take my copy-book to show her when I go to the shop."