"You are an artist, I see?"
"I hope to be one. Look here."
Wilton approached his desk. A sketch lay upon it. A confused mass of figures, apparently intended for a desperate battle.
"This," continued Donald, "is what I wanted you for. This is a study for a large picture in oils (I will begin it when I am a little stronger) of the battle of Balaklava. Nothing has ever been made of this subject, and I want to make something of it; so I thought you would just look at my sketch and see if I have caught an idea of the scene, and correct any inaccuracy that strikes you."
"I should be most happy to help you," returned Wilton, looking hopelessly at the crowd of forms before him; "but I fear my capabilities are not quite equal to the task. In the first place, I was not in the Balaklava affair, and then one's recollections of a battle are not very clear."
"If confusion is a true likeness, Donny's picture will be remarkably successful," said Miss Saville, with a grave manner. Her words brought a flush to the boy's pale brow.
"I wish you would go away," he said, rudely and abruptly. "I can never talk about anything when you are by."
"To hear is to obey," replied Miss Saville, rising; "only do not try Colonel Wilton's patience too much."
"Go! go!" returned Donald, almost fiercely.