"Cornelius, I assure you I think it would be taken amiss if I were to leave on Friday."
He submitted, gave me a quiet kiss, and rang the bell. A white figure emerged from a neighbouring avenue, and Mrs. Langton, recognising me through the iron grating, took down the key that always hung by the door, and admitted me, smiling. I introduced Cornelius somewhat awkwardly. He stood with the light of the moon full on his face and figure. I caught Mrs. Langton giving him two or three rapid and curious looks, but she only made a few civil and commonplace remarks. He answered in the same strain, bowed, and left us.
"And so, Miss Burns," softly observed Mrs. Langton, as she closed and locked the gate, "that is your adopted father—as Mr. Edward Thornton calls him, I believe."
"Yes," I said, quietly, "Cornelius is, indeed, my adopted father; but he does not like me to consider him so."
"Indeed!"
"Oh, no: he does me the honour to hold me as his friend."
Mrs. Langton suppressed a rosy smile, and talked of the beauty of the evening as we walked through the grounds to the Lodge.
Mr. Thornton was out, and Mrs. Brand whispered confidentially that my absence might be the cause. He came in, however, sufficiently early, and as I sat apart rather silent, his sister felt sure I suffered from low spirits, and gave him the duty of enlivening me. He smiled, bowed, and settling himself in a comfortable arm-chair by me, entered on the task. But I remained obstinately grave, until, from topic to topic, he came to the Academy.
My cousin gave me the tidings that it was to open in two days. He hoped I would accompany Mrs. Brand. He knew my judgment was excellent, and felt anxious to have my opinion of several pictures he had already secured, and of others he intended purchasing.
"Oh, I shall be so glad!" I exclaimed, with an eagerness that made him smile.