“So long?”
“Yes, to do it well.”
“Take, then, your own time, and charge your own price. Here are fifty dollars,” and the stranger handed the engraver some money. “I will call every day while the work is progressing, that I may look at the sweet picture upon which you are engaged.”
“How large shall it be?” inquired the engraver.
“Just the size of the miniature,” replied the stranger. Then rising, he said, as he bowed to Stilling, “I will see you again to-morrow about this hour.”
On the next day, when the stranger called, Dora was sitting by her father. An exclamation of delight was checked upon his lips, as his eyes fell upon the beautiful girl; but his noble face expressed surprise and undisguised admiration.
“The lovely original!” dropped at length from his tongue.
“My daughter,” said the engraver.
Dora rose up and made a low courtesy.
“Your daughter! How strange! You did not tell me this yesterday.”