"Certainly—if you wish it;" and Hyacinth smiled in bitter scorn. "If he had asked me for a sketch," she thought, "no other fingers should have touched it."
"I thought," resumed Miss Dartelle, "that, as the gentlemen are all away to-day, we might spend a few hours over it."
"If you will put on your hat," said Miss Holte, "I will be ready in a few minutes."
Both sisters appeared presently, and they were unusually gracious to Miss Holte. After a pleasant walk they came in sight of the grand old forest-giant. A servant had followed them, bearing camp-stools and all the necessaries for sketching.
"Will you make a sketch of the tree, please, Miss Holte? And, as I must do something toward it, I will work at the minor details."
Hyacinth sat down at some little distance from the tree and began her task. The morning was bright and almost warm. The sisters at times sat and watched her progress, at others, walked up and down. They conversed before her as unconcernedly as though she had been one of the branches of the oak-tree, and their conversation was all about Lord Chandon. Hyacinth could not hear all they said, but it was evident that Veronica Dartelle was in the highest spirit, and felt sure of her conquest.
Tired of walking, they sat down at last close to Hyacinth, and Miss Dartelle, turning to her sister, said:
"You have no idea how he has altered since he has been here; he was so dull, so reserved, so gloomy at first—now he talks quite freely to me."
"He does not seem to say anything to the purpose," sneered Mildred.