Blanche held out her small hand, with an air of naive and innocent frankness, and Guly took the rosy finger tips, as he bent across the counter, and pressed them to his lips. It was an act totally unexpected by Blanche, but it was done with such a noble grace by the boy, and with an air of such delicate refinement, while a glow of boyish bashfulness swept over his fine face, that the most fastidious could not have found in it just cause for resentment, much less the guileless and innocent child-woman before him. As Guly released her hand she looked at him more attentively than she had done before, and said, sweetly, in pure unaccented English-- "I hope we may be very good friends, Guly." "Amen," said the boy, with a smile. "And you will sell my work to your choice customers, won't you?" "Invariably." "Adieu." "Adieu, Miss." She flitted out of the door so like a spirit, that she was gone almost before Guly was aware she had left her seat. He longed to go to the door and look after her, but a sense of timidity withheld him; and having no customers just then he took down the box which contained her work, under pretence of arranging it more nicely, but in reality to look upon the delicate labor of those rosy fingers once again. Wilkins was watching him, mischievously, from his desk, and Guly looked up, and caught his eye, with a blush and a smile. "Tell me, Wilkins, who she is." "A poor girl, and very pretty." "And friendless?" "Only her grandpapa, you heard her say." "Poor thing, she does this for a living." "For a living? Yes. And it's a hard one she gets, after all." "You know all about her! What else? Tell me more." "She is very good and pure." "May she always be so. Go on." Wilkins looked at him searchingly for a moment, but the boy met his glance steadily, and the head-clerk withdrew his eye with an air of one who is suddenly made aware of entertaining unjust suspicions; and he went on, with a smile, getting down from his desk, and standing near to Guly meanwhile.