"Be off, I say!" said the man in the Ulster. He spoke very sharply this time. It was like a blow from a cane.
"Can you read?" said Phil Kennedy to Biddy. He was feeling in his vest pocket as he asked this question, and drew out a card.
"I knows 'em as can," said Biddy.
He gave her the card. "Get some one to tell you what is on it," said he, "and come to the place it says—let me see—can you come to-morrow morning about this time?"
Biddy took the card. "Will ye be there?" said Biddy.
"Yes, my little girl, I will." He smiled at her as he spoke. Biddy crossed her hands over the bag she carried, and walked away without a word.
"I see you are just the same," said the man in the Ulster. He looked vexed. "Who'd believe you'd give that thankless little beggar your card, while some of your best friends don't know where to find you!"
"Thankfulness is better than politeness," said Phil Kennedy. "She can be taught to be polite. If you had looked at her, you would have seen that she thanked me."
The two men then walked away.
Charley had not looked round at Biddy and the gentlemen once. He had looked steadily into the window, which had on it, in large letters, "Jewelry and Diamonds." His heart beat very fast; he hardly noticed the gems that flashed and sparkled in the trays and boxes. But when the men had passed on, he turned and looked up and down the street, and after a moment saw Biddy sitting on the lower steps of a wholesale store. He hurried up to her. Biddy had been crying a little, but her eyes were shining with hope. She held the card to Charley.