"No, that is true."
"Then why do you come now?"
"Shall I go away, Cornelius?"
He turned round smiling.
"Look at them," he said, nodding towards an open portfolio, "you have not seen them yet."
He alluded to several sketches of a child in various attitudes, intended for the "Happy Time."
"I have seen them, Cornelius," I replied.
"And when, if you please?"
"I came up the other day when you were out. Pray do not be vexed, but I could not bear any longer not to see what you were doing."
Vexed! oh, he did not look vexed at all with this proof of my constant admiration. Flattery is so sweet, so subtle, so intoxicating. All he said was—