"I would have you not set your heart on a picture and on fame."
"I must work, Miriam, and the workman cannot separate himself from his work, nor be careless of his wages."
He spoke very warmly; she coldly smiled.
"I can do so," she replied; "I can tell you: paint good or bad pictures— what matter? you are still the same man."
"Ay, but there is a bit of difference between a good and bad painter," answered Cornelius, looking half vexed, "and Cornelius O'Reilly hopes to paint good pictures before he dies! But for one or two things this would not be amiss. Daisy, come and look at it."
"You appeal to her?"
"She sometimes hits the right nail on the head. Are the eyes better,
Daisy?"
"No, Cornelius," I frankly replied.
"No!" he echoed, giving my neck a provoked pinch, "and why so, pray?"
"I don't like them much; they look in."