"Firstly, I shall spend more time with my mother, more time in the study of my music, and read all the poetry I wish to, and ride on horseback, and dance, and, of course, help my mother more in taking care of the peasantry."
"Now, Cecil, what shall you do?"
"Firstly, I think I shall paint, and rove about among this beautiful scenery," he replied. "I shall paint until I feel sure that I shall take the first prize in the grand exhibition; I will not exhibit one stroke of my brush until then."
"Well done, Cecil," said Anna, "that is the spirit I like."
For she knew as she looked at him, that he possessed a wealth which no money can buy, a soul full of poetry, a mind full of genius, the elements of true greatness in any art, and the only wealth that she valued.
And Cecil went on with his painting, and progressed, and brought more depth of tone and beauty into his pictures with every fresh attempt, till the canvas seemed to live under his hand, and his poetic soul and gentle nature spoke through his art. When any difficulty presented itself, he would always seek Anna and have her near him, not that she was an artist, but from some cause he could paint his best when she was by; indeed they were together the greater part of the time, for if they began the day in their different parts of the house, by some chance they either found each other in the library, or Lady Dorothy's walk, long before noon. They drifted to the same place, they scarcely knew how, but they began to know that the presence of each one to the other, was equally essential to their happiness. Cecil was a poet, not a writer of rhymes or jingles, but as we have said a true poet in his soul. Anna felt this in all her intercourse with him and heard it in the tones of his voice when he spoke, a voice that had a ring in it, a resonance, and that exquisite power of modulation which says more than the words themselves. And so time went swiftly and sweetly by with their walks and rides, and occupations, until they were twenty years old. Anna happy in the possession of Cecil's love, with life as she wished it, pure, joyous life, with music and beauty everywhere. A song ever on her lips, the happiest, merriest maiden in all "Merrie England."
Cecil in his gentle way, deriving extreme pleasure from the study and exercise of his art, and Anna's companionship. For the cousinly affection of two years ago, had in both of them merged into deep intense love, which ended only with their lives.
CHAPTER IV.
And those were sudden partings such as press
The life from out young hearts.