“But they are large enough for me,” she said, thrusting forward a small, velvet-shod foot imperiously. “I will not wear ugly shoes because your Englishwomen have ugly feet.” And nothing would satisfy her but to try them on, when, to the surprise of the shopkeeper and the consternation of the unhappy purse-bearer, they proved to fit her perfectly and in every respect to suit her taste. She performed a little fancy dance before the glass to demonstrate their beauty and the fact that they were easy, and George brought down his fortune to a couple of half-crowns and some coppers by the act of paying for them. “Weren’t there any boots then among the things I brought from Mary Street this morning, Nouna?” he asked diffidently. “Oh yes, a few old ploughmen’s things--‘strong walking-boots,’ as Mrs. Ellis calls them,” said she carelessly; “but of course I could not come out with _you_ in _those_. You know Mrs. Ellis never will take me with her to buy my things. This is the very first time I have ever bought anything for myself, and oh! I do like it.” George had no doubt of that: she was absolutely trembling with joyous excitement. But Mrs. Ellis’s judgment seemed to him a less mean thing than it had seemed before. The girl was so happy, however, that it was impossible not to sympathise a little with her pleasure; and when they left the shop and got again into the hansom, and she said, with an ardent squeeze of his hand, “Oh, I do like shopping with you! I’ll go shopping with you whenever you like!” he felt a passionate longing to gather the little butterfly thing up into his arms; and instead of telling her that about a week of this indulgence would land him in the Bankruptcy Court, he told her in a husky whisper that he would have some work in a few days, and when the money for it came she should have it to do what she liked with, “and every penny I can ever earn in all my life, my darling,” he added close to her ear. Whereupon she was with difficulty restrained from embracing him opposite Peter Robinson’s.