"Granny said if we could afford to buy hay for Crummie, I should not have to gather swill," said Nelly; "and I should be glad to get rid of that. And then it would take one thing out of the way of my staying in the shop."
Mr. Lambert laughed. "You are the most practical child I ever saw, Nelly. I wish my girl had half your sense. But what about going into the shop?"
Nelly told him the story.
"Oh, you must go into the shop," said Mr. Lambert. "Tell your grandmother I shall not paint her portrait if she does not let you go."
Nelly promised. "I do hope she will. It seems such a chance for me, and I may never have another."
Whether it was Mrs. Kirkland's argument or Mr. Lambert's threat that prevailed, I cannot say; but certain it is, granny consented that the ten dollars should be laid out in hay, and that Nelly should accept Mrs. Kirkland's offer. It was also found possible to make an arrangement by which little Harry Brown carried round the milk to most of the customers, receiving his pay in the same commodity.
Granny's remaining objections were quite overcome by her first visit to the store, where she heard Nelly called "Miss Ryan," and saw her engaged in work which the old woman acknowledged was "far more fit for the likes of her than going round to people's back-doors with a slop-pail."
[CHAPTER X.]
NELLY had now reached the height of her ambition. She was actually employed in the same store with her dear Miss Powell, and under her eyes,—in that same store which had so often attracted her longing gaze as being a paradise of every thing-wonderful and beautiful.
She was learning something new every day. She had the pleasure of feeling that she gave entire satisfaction to her employers, and of knowing that even granny was gratified with her improved condition. Yes, Nelly had attained the height of her ambition.