"And you won it, I understand! I congratulate you."
"Thank you. I thought Higgs would be mad—I know I should have been in his place—but he wasn't a bit. He spoke to me about it after the school had broken up this morning; said he'd rather be licked by me than by any of the other fellows, and I really believe he meant what he said."
"He has evidently learnt how to take a defeat in the proper spirit. I suppose you are very elated at being the victor?"
"No, I don't think I am. Mother and father are pleased, but I'm not so glad as I thought I should be."
The boy spoke in a depressed tone, as though he took a jaundiced view of things in general.
"Your mother was telling me the other day that you are fond of drawing and painting," Mr. Willis said, after a lengthened pause, during which he had been debating what subject would be likely to interest his young companion.
Gilbert's face brightened as he admitted the truth of his mother's statement.
"I haven't touched a brush for nearly two months myself," Mr. Willis continued, with a faint sigh; "my illness has been a great drawback, but now I am so much better and stronger, I shall soon be at work again: I have chosen a pleasant room at Haresdown House for a studio. You must come and see it."
"I should like to." Gilbert looked greatly pleased. He had heard of the artist's disappointment at not being able to finish his picture in time for exhibition at the Royal Academy that year, and longed to question him about it. "Your little girl told us about the beautiful picture you have been painting," he proceeded hesitatingly. "Did you—did you bring it with you?"
"Yes," Mr. Willis answered. His face saddened for a moment, then brightened again.