To her great joy, Mr. Fletcher heartily approved of the scheme.
"You will know something of the value of money if you earn it yourself," he said, "and you never will, till you do. I am going down town this evening, and will call at Mr. Beckford's store, and talk the matter over with him. You can go with me, if you like."
Of course Ethel wished to do so. She passed without a pang the lighted and glittering shops, which had caused her so much discomfort in the morning, though she would have liked to stop before some of the lighted windows, and speculate on what she should buy with her money.
Her father laughingly compared her to the milkmaid who counted her chickens before they were hatched.
"I hope I shall not be as unlucky as she was," said Ethel, laughing in her turn, and blushing a little. "But here we are at Mr. Beckford's. I do hope he is in!"
Mr. Beckford was in, and invited them into his private office. Ethel thought him the slowest man she had ever seen in her life, and wondered what was the use of considering so long before every word. But as all things come to an end, so did Mr. Beckford's cogitations, and the bargain was concluded.
The pictures were of two sorts, one of which required to be colored very delicately, while the others did not need so much care. For the first she was to have ten cents apiece, and for the others five cents and three cents, according to the amount of work upon them; and she was to supply her own colors.
Very happy she was when she departed with her large roll of prints securely tied in brown paper. She thought her father's marketing had never lasted so long, even when he had bought four times as much, and she could hardly spend time to admire her favorite spectacle of the lighted picture-dealer's window, so anxious was she to get home with her treasures.
The moment she had disposed of her bonnet and cloak, she got out her paint-box and set to work on one of the cheaper prints, and she had finished that and part of another, before her mother announced that it was past nine o'clock, and quite time for her to go to bed.
"Just let me finish this old woman's red petticoat, mother," she pleaded. "I do so much want to see how she will look."