Kenelm seated himself, and, drawing his chair near to Will's, took up the half-finished basket which the young man had laid down on the table.
"This seems to me very nice and delicate workmanship," said Kenelm; "and the shape, when you have finished it, will be elegant enough to please the taste of a lady."
"It is for Mrs. Lethbridge," said Will: "she wanted something to hold cards and letters; and I took the shape from a book of drawings which Mr. Lethbridge kindly lent me. You know Mr. Lethbridge, sir? He is a very good gentleman."
"No, I don't know him. Who is he?"
"Our clergyman, sir. This is the book."
To Kenelm's surprise, it was a work on Pompeii, and contained woodcuts of the implements and ornaments, mosaics and frescos, found in that memorable little city.
"I see this is your model," said Kenelm; "what they call a /patera/, and rather a famous one. You are copying it much more truthfully than I should have supposed it possible to do in substituting basket-work for bronze. But you observe that much of the beauty of this shallow bowl depends on the two doves perched on the brim. You can't manage that ornamental addition."
"Mrs. Lethbridge thought of putting there two little stuffed canary-birds."
"Did she? Good heavens!" exclaimed Kenelm.
"But somehow," continued Will, "I did not like that, and I made bold to say so."