The curtain was drawn aside, and the company shouted with delight. No picture had been so good yet as this one. The little grave figure, the helmet with its nodding plumes in mock stateliness; the attitude, one finger just resting on the pedestal of the broken column, (an ottoman did duty for it) as if to shew that Fortitude stood alone, and the shaggy St. Bernard at her feet, all made in truth an extremely pretty spectacle. You could see the faintest tinge of a smile of pleasure on the lips of both Mr. and Mrs. Randolph; they were silent, but all the rest of the people cheered and openly declared their delight. Daisy stood like a rock. Her mouth never gave way; not even when Dolce, conceiving that all this cheering called upon him to do something, rose up and looking right into Daisy's face wagged his tail in the blandest manner of congratulation. Daisy did not wince; and an energetic "Down, Dolce, down!"—brought the St. Bernard to his position again, in the very meekness of strength; and then the people clapped for Daisy and the dog together. At last the curtain fell.
[Illustration]
"Well, that will do," said Mrs. Sandford.
"Dolce—you rascal!" said Preston, as the great creature was now wagging his tail in honour of his master,—"how came you to forget your business in that style, sir?"
"I do not think it really hindered the effect at all, Preston," said
Mrs. Sandford. "Daisy kept her countenance so well."
"Yes,—if Fortitude had smiled!—" said Theresa, "Mrs. Sandford, is it out of character for Fortitude to smile?"
"It would be out of character for Portia, just at this crisis—so take care of her."
"What made them make such a great noise, Daisy?" said Nora while Daisy was getting undressed.
"I suppose they liked the picture," said Daisy.
"But they made a great deal more noise than they did for anybody else," said Nora.