Mrs. Austin’s eyes opened wide with astonishment at some of the things which were carried up her stairs that day, but she did not interfere. Her new lodger made the boys assist her to prepare the garret for her purposes and arrange her work. Then she sent them away, and remained alone in the attic for two or three hours. When at last she left it she locked the door, saying to Mrs. Austin, as she passed her on the stairs, "You may have another key for the garret, but please do not allow any one to enter it, or even look in. I know I can trust you." She put her hand in the widow’s as she spoke. Mrs. Austin rose to the occasion. "No one shall enter or look in, miss," she said. "You have paid for the garret for a month, and it is yours." When Doris returned home in the evening, however, Mrs. Austin confided to her that she thought Miss Sinclair must be a funny sort of artist, if indeed she was one at all. Doris felt a little curious, too, about the girl who painted with such odd materials. But as she came after Doris went to her work in the mornings, and had usually gone before Doris returned in the evenings, several weeks passed before their first meeting. As time went on Mrs. Austin told Doris tales of beautiful oil-paintings being carried out of the garret and downstairs by men who came for them. "I only just catch a glimpse of them sometimes," she said, "and they fairly stagger me, they are so gorgeous. Mountains and lakes, cattle and running streams, pretty girls and laughing children, animals of all sorts and I don’t know what besides! Miss Sinclair must be a popular artist." Doris felt a little sceptical. A young girl like Miss Sinclair to do such great things all alone, and so quickly, too! It seemed very strange. "I wonder if they are real paintings?" she said. "You might almost think she is a magician, or a fairy godmother, or something or other," said Mrs. Austin. "Oh, yes, they are saleable goods, for she gets lots of money for them--I know she does. She told me she was getting on so well that she could give me half a crown a week more for the garret, and would be glad to do that, for she liked it so much." "I am very glad to hear it," said Doris kindly. "You deserve every penny, dear Mrs. Austin." "Eh! dear, there’s no one like you, Miss Anderson. I am well off to have two such lodgers--one that pays so much, and the other that upholds me with good words." Another evening she said to Doris, "Do you know, miss, I heard a dealer saying to Miss Sinclair to-day, ’Well, I’ll buy as many dozens of that picture as you can do for me."’ "Dozens of that picture!" Doris opened her eyes widely. _Dozens_? What was this artist who painted dozens of paintings all alike?