"Do you skate, Tom?" asked Miss Keane, coming up breathless after a long run down the lake.
"Yes, Miss Keane. But I have no skates; they were left at home—in Newhaven, I mean."
"Here, Minnie, my pet, run to the house and bring out a couple of pairs. You will find them in George's room, I think; and tell Robert I want him on the lake."
Minnie ran off obediently. Pretty soon Mr. George Keane and the two cousins appeared round the bend, and Miss Keane introduced the latter to Tom. They did not take long to become acquainted, and were soon talking quite familiarly. They stood waiting till Minnie returned, her brother with her, carrying the skates. He was a tall, slight young man, rather like Miss Keane; and his face looked a trifle stern at first, as hers did, but that wore off when you got to know him.
"This is Tom Hurst I told you of, Robert," said Miss Keane; and Tom shook hands with him reverentially, remembering he was the great painter all America was talking of.
"I'm glad to see you," said Mr. Robert Keane frankly. "Let us get on our skates, and you and I shall take a run together. I haven't been on the ice this season."
Tom sat down and quickly put on his skates, and the pair set off, keeping close together. Miss Keane turned to Mr. Goldthwaite with a smile. "Robert is interested already. I want him to do something for Tom, and I think he will."
"He will not regret it," answered Mr. Goldthwaite. "They are all off now but we two, Miss Keane; come, we must not be behind."
"My sister tells me you would like to be a painter, Tom," said Mr. Robert Keane, when they had gone a hundred yards in silence.
"Yes, sir," answered Tom, wishing to say a great deal more, but unable to utter more than two words.