"Oh, papa," cried Beryl eagerly, "do you think that any of Mr. Gilbank's pictures will be there?"
"I dare say," he replied; "I believe his pictures have been exhibited there."
"Do take me with you," exclaimed Beryl impetuously; "I should so like to see Mr. Gilbank's pictures."
"I don't know about that, Beryl," replied her father; "you must ask Mrs. Everard's permission. It may not be agreeable to her to have the company of such an importunate young person as you are."
He glanced at Mrs. Everard as he spoke, and she was about to reply that she would be very pleased to take Beryl, when her daughter's soft, sweet voice interposed.
"We should be delighted to take dear Beryl with, us, should we not, mamma?" said Mrs. Campbell; "but I think we must consider what is good for her. The galleries of the Academy are so hot and crowded of an afternoon that it is scarcely the place to which to take a child. She could not see the pictures for the people who would be around her, and I fear the poor darling would grow very weary, especially as she has been in the Park all the morning."
"Ah, to be sure, you are right; it would not be a good place for her," said Mr. Hollys.
"I am not a bit tired, papa," protested Beryl, her cheek flushing with anger at what she considered Mrs. Campbell's interference; "it would not hurt me, I am sure."
"My darling, you are hardly old enough to know what will harm you and what will not," said Mrs. Campbell in her gentlest tones. "We older people must judge for you. I tell you what I will do, Beryl; I will take you myself some morning early to the Academy, and we will have a good look at Mr. Gilbank's pictures before the crowd begins to gather. I will look for them to-day, that I may know where to take you."
"Thank you; but I would much rather go this afternoon," said Beryl ungraciously.