For the next two months Mr. Hamlin was professionally engaged in San
Francisco and Marysville, and the transfer of Sophy from the school to
her new home was effected without his supervision. From letters received
by him during that interval, it seemed that the young girl had entered
energetically upon her new career, and that her artistic efforts were
crowned with success. There were a few Indian-ink sketches, studies made
at school and expanded in her own "studio," which were eagerly bought as
soon as exhibited in the photographer's window,--notably by a florid
and inartistic bookkeeper, an old negro woman, a slangy stable boy, a
gorgeously dressed and painted female, and the bearded second officer of
a river steamboat, without hesitation and without comment. This, as Mr.
Hamlin intelligently pointed out in a letter to Sophy, showed a general
and diversified appreciation on the part of the public. Indeed, it
emboldened her, in the retouching of photographs, to offer sittings
to the subjects, and to undertake even large crayon copies, which had
resulted in her getting so many orders that she was no longer obliged
to sell her drawings, but restricted herself solely to profitable
portraiture. The studio became known; even its quaint surroundings added
to the popular interest, and the originality and independence of the
young painter helped her to a genuine success. All this she wrote to
Jack. Meantime Hannibal had assured him that he had carried out his
instructions by informing "Missy" of his old master's real occupation
and reputation, but that the young lady hadn't "took no notice."
Certainly there was no allusion to it in her letters, nor any indication
in her manner. Mr. Hamlin was greatly, and it seemed to him properly,
relieved. And he looked forward with considerable satisfaction to an
early visit to old Hannibal's laundry.