fashionable photograph establishment, she was surprised to find that
it was half-past two o'clock.

The Superintendent of the department, from whom she received her
work, was a man of middle-age, of rather stern and forbidding
aspect; and as she approached his desk, he pointed to the clock on
the mantel-piece.

"Barely time to submit those types for inspection, and have them
packed for the express going East. They are birthday gifts, and
birthdays have an awkward habit of arriving rigidly on time."

He unrolled the tissue paper, and with a magnifying glass, carefully
examined the pictures; then took from an envelope in the box, two
short pieces of hair, which he compared with the painted heads
before him.

"Beautifully done. The lace on that child's dress would bear even a
stronger lens than my glass. Here Patterson, take this box, and
letter to Mr. Endicott, and if satisfactory, carry them to the
packing counter. Shipping address is in the letter. Hurry up, my
lad. Sit down, Miss Brentano."

"Thank you, I am not tired. Mr. Mansfield, have you any good news
for me?"

"You mean those etchings; or the designs for the Christmas cards?
Have not heard a word, pro or con. Guess no news is good news; for I
notice 'rejected' work generally travels fast, to roost at home."