Beryl's cheeks grew hotter, and she looked so guilty that her father hastily introduced another subject, in order to cover her confusion.
David Gilbank's studio was neither grand nor luxurious, but it struck the children as one of the most charming places they had ever visited; for it was furnished in simple, artistic style, had plenty of pictures, and a large supply of the picturesque knick-knacks artists love.
The artist was at work when they entered; but he cheerfully laid aside his brush to give his visitors a cordial greeting. It was an unexpected pleasure to him to see his little friends from Egloshayle, and he greeted them warmly.
Mr. Hollys soon began to speak of the picture that had so pleased him.
"I wish I could have had it," he said, almost impatiently. "You might have let me know that you had painted the children."
"I would have done so had I considered the faces to be portraits," said Mr. Gilbank. "But the picture is little more than a sketch made on the beach at Egloshayle. It was after considerable hesitation that I decided to send it to the Exhibition."
"Do you know anything of the purchaser?" enquired Mr. Hollys.
"He is a man named Robert Harvey, who has made a fortune out in Australia," said Mr. Gilbank. "I wonder what made him take a fancy to my picture."
"Robert Harvey," repeated Mr. Hollys; "what is it makes that name seem so familiar to me?"
"Why, papa!" burst in Beryl eagerly. "I remember Coral's mamma told you that her brother's name was Robert Harvey. I was in the room when she said it."