"You have had it."
"What does that morning drawing mean?"
"You know it."
"You mean to become an artist?"
"I am an artist," he replied, drawing himself up slightly.
She rocked herself to and fro, looking at her brother drearily. He laid his hand on her shoulder, and said, with earnest tone and look—
"Kate, I know all you dread; there are obstacles; I see them, and I will conquer them. Obstacles! why if there were none, would anything in this world be worth the winning?"
He had begun calmly; he ended with strange warmth and vehemence, throwing back his head with the presumptuous but not ungraceful confidence of youth. His look was daring, his smile full of trust; to both his sister responded by a mournful glance dimmed with tears.
"You had promised—" she began.
"Not to give it up for ever, Kate," he interrupted; "I have kept my promise, I have tried not to draw; I might as well try not to breathe."