“Cooperation implies a division of tasks,” Lisle pointed out. “In a country like this, they’re many and varied. So long as you draw the wild things as you do, you’ll discharge your debt.”
“Do you know that that’s the kind of work the community generally pays one very little for?”
“Then it shows its wrong-headedness,” Lisle answered as he glanced meaningly round the room. “But haven’t you got part of your fee already? Of course, that’s impertinent.”
“I believe we would shrink from saying it, but it’s quite correct,” Millicent replied. “Still, since you have mentioned the drawings, I’d like your opinion about this ouzel.”
She took up the sketch and explained the difficulty, as she had done to Mrs. Gladwyne.
“It’s right; don’t alter it,” advised Lisle. “It’s your business to show people the real thing as it actually is, so they can learn, not to alter it to suit their untrained views.”
He laughed and rose somewhat reluctantly.
“After that, I’d better get along. I have to thank you for allowing me to come in.”
She let him go with a friendly smile, and then sat down to think about him. He was rather direct, but the good-humor with which he stated his opinions softened their positiveness. Besides, she had invited them; and she felt that they were correct. He was such another as Nasmyth, simple in some respects, but reliable; one who could never be guilty of anything mean. She liked the type in general, and she admitted that she liked this representative of it in particular.