“Oh, papa, I am sure you are always ready for them,” said Gipsy, following him.
Mr Stanforth, on discovering more clearly the whereabouts of Oakby, recollected having visited Ashrigg some years ago, when engaged on a portrait of some member of Sir John Hubbard’s family. He perceived with some amusement that Alvar attached no ideas to his name or to his profession; and Cherry had scarcely realised either, so that when the next morning Mr Stanforth came up to speak to him, with a sketch-book in his hand, he said, quite simply,—
“I see you have been drawing; may I look?”
“If you will not think I have taken a great liberty,” said Mr Stanforth, giving him the book.
Cheriton laughed and exclaimed at one or two exquisitely outlined likenesses of their fellow-passengers, hitting off their peculiarities with a touch, then admired a little bit of blue sky and dancing wave, with a pair of sea-gulls hanging white and soft in the midst, while under were written the lines,—
“As though life’s only call and care
Were graceful motion.”
“How lovely!” he said; “how wonderfully well you do it! Ah, that is Alvar—yes, you have caught that grave, graceful look exactly. Alvar is just like a walking picture; he can’t be awkward.”
“I am afraid I have not been so successful with Alvar’s brother; but the contrast was irresistible,” said Mr Stanforth, as Cherry turned another page, and saw a sketch of himself lying on the deck, and Alvar, leaning over him, and pointing out something in the distance.
“That is just Alvar’s look.”
“You are a much more difficult subject than your brother,” said Mr Stanforth.