He looked me in the face with the simplicity of a child; listened to my enthusiastic praise with evident gratification, and, with great na?vet?, confessed "that was just his own opinion." We were interrupted by the unexpected entrance of Miriam, who came earlier than usual.
"There!" triumphantly exclaimed Cornelius, "the case is decided against you; I have appealed to Daisy, and like me she does not see so very great a difference between Medora and the Stolen Child."
"Does she not?" carelessly replied Miriam, as she sat down without looking at the picture.
"I see what it is," he said in a piqued tone, "you think I have not done you justice."
"Nothing of the kind," she answered smiling.
"Ah! if I did not fear to injure your health," reproachfully continued Cornelius, "I would soon show you that Medora could be made not quite unworthy of Miriam."
"But really," she replied in her indolent way, "I only said it was a little calm."
"Cold, Miriam. Ah! if you would only give me as a sitting the hour you spend here daily, how soon I could improve that cold Medora."
She flatly refused; she could not think of letting him lay by his Stolen Child, that promised so well for so inferior a production as Medora. It was only after half an hours hard begging and praying, that Cornelius at length obtained her consent. He set to work that very instant,—she sat not one hour, but two; I looked on with the vague presentiment that Cornelius and I were very simple.
Of course, though not at once, the Stolen Child was again laid aside for Medora. Cornelius said it made no difference, since he could finish the two pictures with ease for the ensuing year's Exhibition. Kate made no comment, but quietly asked if the smell of the paint had ceased to affect Miss Russell.