"Well," he says, "you trust to him; there are lots of those Glasgow men who would only be too glad to have the chance——"
"Oh, no, no," she cried, laughing. "I am not going to coerce people into buying my pictures for the sake of friendship. I think your uncle would buy every sketch I have on board the yacht; but I cannot allow my friends to be victimised."
"Oh, victimised!" said he, scornfully. "They ought to be glad to have the chance. And do you mean to go on giving away your work for nothing? That sketch of the little creek we were in—opposite Iona, don't you know—that you gave my uncle, is charming. And they tell me you have given that picture of the rocks and sea-birds—where is the place?——"
"Oh, do you mean the sketch in the saloon—of Canna?"
"Yes; why it is one of the finest landscapes I ever saw. And they tell me you gave it to that doctor who was on board!"
"Dr. Sutherland," says she, hastily—and there is a quick colour in her face—"seemed to like it as—as a sort of reminiscence, you know——"
"But he should not have accepted a valuable picture," said the Youth, with decision. "No doubt you offered it to him when you saw he admired it. But now—when he must understand that—well, in fact, that circumstances are altered—he will have the good sense to give it you back again."
"Oh, I hope not," she says, with her embarrassment not diminishing. "I—I should not like that! I—I should be vexed."
"A person of good tact and good taste," says this venturesome young man, "would make a joke of it—would insist that you never meant it—and would prefer to buy the picture."
She answers, somewhat shortly—