"Yes, I see," he replied, looking charmed.
"I always told you these childish feelings would pass away," she continued, laying her hand on my head.
He smiled in her face, a happy, admiring smile.
"Resume your work," she said, sitting down; "Miss O'Reilly has asked me to spend the day."
"But not here, Miriam; think of the smell of the paint."
"I do not feel it yet, so pray go on with that Stolen Child. What wonderful sweetness and pathos you have put in her face!"
"Do you think so? I mean, do you really think so?" cried Cornelius quite delighted; "well, Daisy has a very sweet face, I mean in expression, and to tell you the truth," he added in the simplicity of his heart, "I have done my best to improve it; I am glad you noticed that."
"Then resume your work; you know I like to look on."
He said, "Not yet," and as he sat down by her with the evident intention of lingering away a few hours, I left them. I was neither detained nor recalled.
I behaved with sufficient fortitude. Unbidden, I gave up to Miriam my place at table, and in the evening, of my own accord, I went to Kate for my lessons, whilst Cornelius and his betrothed walked up and down in the garden. I saw him once more engrossed with her, and, whatever I felt, I betrayed no sign of pettish jealousy. When she left us, I was the first to bid her good-night. Cornelius, without knowing how much these trifles cost me, looked pleased and approving. He also looked—but with this I had nothing to do—very happy.