“Shall you stay four years?” asked Merry's soft voice, while a wistful look came into her happy eyes.
“Ten, if I can,” answered Ralph, decidedly, feeling as if a long lifetime would be all too short for the immortal work he meant to do. “I've got so much to learn, that I shall do whatever David thinks best for me at first, and when I can go alone, I shall just shut myself up and forget that there is any world outside my den.”
“Do write and tell us how you get on now and then; I like to hear about other people's good times while I'm waiting for my own,” said Molly, too much interested to observe that Grif was sticking burrs up and down her braids.
“Of course I shall write to some of you, but you mustn't expect any great things for years yet. People don't grow famous in a hurry, and it takes a deal of hard work even to earn your bread and butter, as you'll find if you ever try it,” answered Ralph, sobering down a little as he remembered the long and steady effort it had taken to get even so far.
“Speaking of bread and butter reminds me that we'd better eat ours before the coffee gets quite cold,” said Annette, for Merry seemed to have forgotten that she had been chosen to play matron, as she was the oldest.
The boys seconded the motion, and for a few minutes supper was the all-absorbing topic, as the cups went round and the goodies vanished rapidly, accompanied by the usual mishaps which make picnic meals such fun. Ralph's health was drunk with all sorts of good wishes; and such splendid prophecies were made, that he would have far surpassed Michael Angelo, if they could have come true. Grif gave him an order on the spot for a full-length statue of himself, and stood up to show the imposing attitude in which he wished to be taken, but unfortunately slipped and fell forward with one hand in the custard pie, the other clutching wildly at the coffee-pot, which inhospitably burnt his fingers.
“I think I grasp the idea, and will be sure to remember not to make your hair blow one way and the tails of your coat another, as a certain sculptor made those of a famous man,” laughed Ralph, as the fallen hero scrambled up, amidst general merriment.
“Will the little bust be done before you go?” asked Jill, anxiously, feeling a personal interest in the success of that order.
“Yes: I've been hard at it every spare minute I could get, and have a fortnight more. It suits Mrs. Lennox, and she will pay well for it, so I shall have something to start with, though I haven't been able to save much. I'm to thank you for that, and I shall send you the first pretty thing I get hold of,” answered Ralph, looking gratefully at the bright face, which grew still brighter as Jill exclaimed,—
“I do feel so proud to know a real artist, and have my bust done by him. I only wish I could pay for it as Mrs. Lennox does; but I haven't any money, and you don't need the sort of things I can make,” she added, shaking her head, as she thought over knit slippers, wall-pockets, and crochet in all its forms, as offerings to her departing friend.