"Oh! by-the-way, Miss Denis is here too, sketching."
Apparently this intelligence altered the case, for the gentleman paused, rested on his oars, and said rather nonchalantly,—
"Very well, I shall come aboard—since you wish it so particularly!" and, rowing round, made fast his boat, and was soon on deck, closely followed by a big brown retriever.
"Oh, dear me!" cried Mrs. Creery, lifting up her hands. "So you have brought that nasty dog! he is sure to fight with Nip."
"Not he, I will be security for his good conduct. And how are you getting on, Miss Denis?" to Helen, who was shyly hiding her drawing with her arm.
"Not at all well; I am not accustomed to sketching, and my attempt here is such a libel on the view, that I am quite ashamed to let you see it, but it" (apologetically) "seems a pity not to try and take away some recollections of these lovely islands."
"Yes, you are quite right; and I shall be very glad to give you some photographs, that is if you would care for them—they don't give the colours, of course."
(At this offer Mrs. Creery became rigid and gave a little warning cough.)
"But," taking up Helen's sketch, "this is not at all bad! Your perspective is a bit out here, and you have not got the right shade in the sea!"
"I know it is all frightful; sea, and land, and sky," returned Helen, colouring; "I am sure you can draw, Mr. Lisle: please have the charity to do something to it for me, and make it look less like a thing on a tea-tray," holding her box and brushes towards him as she spoke.