Mr. Lisle, without another word, laid the block upon the bulwarks, gazed for a moment at the scene, and then dashed in two or three effective strokes, with what even Mrs. Creery (who had, of course, followed up the sketch) could see was a master's hand.
Helen's pale, meek, school-girl attempt received in three minutes another complexion; with a few rapid touches, a glow of the setting-sun lit up the sky, and threw out in bold relief the dark promontory of Mount Harriet; a touch to the sea, and it became sea (no longer mere green paper); palms and gurgeon trees appeared as if by magic; Helen had never seen anything like the transformation. She almost held her breath as she gazed—not quite so closely as the elder lady, whose topee was in its old place;—why, the drawing-master at Miss Twigg's could not paint a quarter as well as Mr. Lisle; who now looked at the view, with his head on one side, and then glanced at Helen, amused at the awe and admiration depicted on her countenance.
"Yes, that's more like it," cried Mrs. Creery, encouragingly. "I told you, you know," to Helen, "that your sea was too green and flat, and your perspective all wrong! I know a good deal about drawing myself." (May she be forgiven for this fable!) "My sister, Lady Grubb is a beautiful artist, and has done some lovely Decalcomanie vases; but you paint very nicely, too, Mr. Lisle, really quite as well as most drawing-masters!" Then, looking suddenly round, "But all this time where is Nip? I do believe that he has followed that horrible brute of yours down into the cabins!"
"Not at all likely, Mrs. Creery, you know that they are not affinities; Nip has followed his own inquisitive impulses, for Hero," moving aside, "is here."
"Well, where can he be? Nip, Nip, Nip!" walking away in search of her treasure.
"He is not lost, at any rate," muttered Mr. Lisle, "no such luck." Then, in a louder tone, "Is not this a strange, out-of-the-world place?" to Helen, who was watching his busy brush with childlike interest. "If I had been suddenly asked about the Andamans, a couple of years ago, I should have been puzzled to say whether they were a place, a family of that name, or something to eat—wouldn't you?"
"Not quite so bad as that," smiling.
"Oh, of course, pardon me—I forgot that you are a young lady of most unusual information."
"No, no, no, I knew nothing about them, I candidly confess, till papa came here."
"They certainly well repay a visit," continued her companion, painting away steadily as he spoke, "there is a sort of Arcadian simplicity, a kind of savage solitude, an absence of worry, and not the slightest hurry about anything, that has wonderful charms for me."