“But why not ask Mr. Massingbred to take his place—you've seen him?”
“Only passing the window, miss. He is a handsome young man, but that same look of fashion, the dash of style about him, is exactly what destroys the face for me, I feel I could make nothing of it; I 'd be always thinking of him standing inside the plate-glass window of a London club, or cantering along the alleys of the Park, or sipping his iced lemonade at Tortoni's. There's no poetizing your man of gold chains and embroidered waistcoats!”
“I half suspect you are unjust in this case,” said she, with one of her dubious smiles.
“I'm only saying what the effect is upon myself, miss,” said Crow.
“But why not make a compromise between the two?” said she. “I believe the great painters—Vandyke, certainly—rarely took the studies from a single head. They caught a brow here, and a mouth there, harmonizing the details by the suggestions of their own genius. Now, what if, preserving all this here,”—and she pointed to the head and eyes,—“you were to fill up the remainder, partly from imagination, partly from a study.” And as she spoke she took the brush from his hand, and by a few light and careless touches imparted a new character to the face.
“Oh, go on! that's admirable,—that's glorious!” exclaimed Crow, wild with delight.
“There is no necessity to lose the expression of haughty sorrow in the eye and brow,” continued she; “nor does it interfere with the passing emotion he may be supposed unable to control, of proud contempt for that priestly influence which has dominated over the ambition of a king.” And now, as though carried away by the theme, she continued to paint as rapidly as she spoke, while Crow busied himself in preparing the colors upon the palette.
“My hardihood is only intended to encourage you, Mr. Crow,” said she, “by showing that if one like me can point the road, the journey need not be deemed a difficult one.” As she retired some paces to contemplate the picture, she casually glanced through a low glass door which opened upon the lawn, and where, under the shelter of a leafy beech, a young country girl was standing; her blue cloth cloak, with the hood thrown over her head, gave a certain picturesque character to the figure, which nearer inspection more than confirmed, for her features were singularly fine, and her large, soft blue eyes beamed with a gentle earnestness that showed Kate she was there with a purpose.