'I wonder if he would give drawing-lessons,' said Charity.
'Not to me,' said Flora; 'not even to be able to do those wonderful things that you admire so would I take lessons of such a sharp-looking old man.'
'Old!' said Miss Brimble; 'he's not old; I was quite struck with his appearance and manner; I believe he's a gentleman in reduced circumstances.'
'Gentleman Jobson,' said Flora.
'As for that, I think Jobson quite as good a name as Brimble.'
'I admit it—how could it be worse? but please to remember we are not bona fide Brimbles, as papa says; woe worth the day that turned us out of honourable "De la Marks" into people so ignoble!'
The ride ended, and the story of the stranger was soon told to the family. Squire Brimble, who was the essence of indulgent fathers, promised to see him, and ascertain if Charity's wish could be accomplished.
Accordingly, the next morning he set off to Stoney Gates to fulfil his promise. He found Mrs. Sparks at her wheel before the door, and the stranger leaning against the large walnut tree, sketching her. Mr. Brimble advanced with an air of easy kindness. 'Mr. Jobson, I believe.' The stranger, with a half-suppressed smile, returned his bow. 'My name is Brimble. I live at yon old red house. My daughters were here yesterday, and had the pleasure of seeing a drawing of yours which they admired exceedingly.' Again the stranger bowed. 'May I have the pleasure of seeing it?'
'By all means, if you will find it a pleasure;' and they entered the house together. Mr. Brimble walked to the largest drawing. He had no doubt Charity was right, and admired it in nearly the same terms in which she had praised it to him; but he wondered whether Flora might not be right—smudge and scratch.
'There's something very extraordinary in genius,' he said. 'It seems to make people forget the ordinary things of life. You, for instance, are so interested in your art, that I daresay you are insensible to half that you are exposed to in this queer place.'