"That is delightful! follow me."
I saw in a moment she had selected an admirable point of view, and I was soon hard at work, Miss Vernon bending over my drawing, offering suggestions as I proceeded, now leaning back against the débris of an old tower, cutting my pencils and telling me legends of the Castle; now wandering away with Gilpin to inspect Winter's sketch, and returning with a report of his progress to stimulate my energies, while Mrs. Winter and the Colonel seated themselves on a rustic bench, occupying an elevated position in what was once the Keep, from which the rival sketchers were both visible, and the latter producing a newspaper from his pocket, sometimes holding his glasses to his eyes, sometimes tapping them on the paper, seemed to read aloud for his companion's amusement. A couple of hours glided pleasantly away, and Kate was congratulating me on my faithful delineation of the ruins, when we perceived Winter join his wife and the Colonel. He waved his straw hat, and making a speaking trumpet of a roll of paper, shouted "Dinner!" very audibly.
"In a minute," said Miss Vernon, forgetting he could not hear her, "just finish that bit of shading, Captain Egerton; Mr. Gilpin and I will put up all your things."
"Are you coming?" shouted Winter once more.
I put my portfolio under my arm, shouldered my camp stool, and we soon joined the impatient and hungry artist, who led the way to a well-chosen site for dinner. A bastion to the east of the Castle, commanding a totally different view both north and south, which the remains of a grey watch tower at one angle served to divide into two distinct pictures. Close under it our banquet was spread; some moss-grown stones and our camp stools supplying us with seats; gaily and laughingly we attacked the viands. Winter presided, eating and talking with great energy, seated on a high stone, which compelled him to keep his feet on tiptoe to prevent his well-filled plate from gliding off his knees; kneeling down every now and then to dive into the interior of a partridge pie, his own contribution to the feast.
"I must trouble you again, Winter," said the Colonel; "no paste thank you, but Teniers himself never gave a better interior."
"I made it myself, Colonel," said Mrs. Winter, triumphantly.
"My dear Madam, fair hands make fair work."
"Bel parlare poco costa," ejaculated Winter.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself to say such things in an unknown tongue," said Miss Vernon.