"Young Mr. Nelligan?"

"Himself. He started this morning for Oughterard."

"But probably to return in a day or two."

Crow looked stealthily around to see if he were not likely to be overheard, and then, approaching Kate, said in a whisper,--

"I don't think he 'll ever cross the doors again."

"How so? has he received any offence?"

"I can't make out what it is," said Simmy, with a puzzled look, "but he came to my room late last night, and sat down without saying a word; and at last, when I questioned him if he were ill, he said suddenly,--

"'Have you found, Mr. Crow, that in your career as an artist, you have been able to withdraw yourself sufficiently from the ordinary events of life as to make up a little world of your own, wherein you lived indifferent to pa.s.sing incidents?'

"'Yes,' said I, 'I have, whenever I was doing anything really worth the name.'

"'And at such times,' said he, again, 'you cared nothing, or next to nothing, for either the flatteries or the sarcasms of those around you?"

"'I could n't mind them,' said I, 'for I never so much as heard them.'

"'Exactly what I mean,' said he, rapidly. 'Intent upon higher ambitions, you were above the petty slights of malice or envy, and with your own goal before you, were steeled against the minor casualties of the journey. Then why should not I also enjoy the immunity? Can I not summon to my aid a pride like this, or am I to be discouraged and disgraced to my own heart by a mere impertinence?'

"I stared at him, not guessing what he could mean.

"'Rather quit the spot with which it is a.s.sociated,--quit it forever,'

muttered he to himself, as he paced the room, while his face grew deathly pale.

"'As for me,' said I, for I wanted to say something--anything, in short--just to take his attention a little off of himself, 'whenever the world goes hard with me, I just step into my studio, lock the door, and sit down before a fresh canvas. I throw in a bit of brown, with a dash of bluish gray over it,--half sky, half atmosphere,--and I daub away till something like an effect--maybe a sunset, maybe a sullen-looking seash.o.r.e, maybe a long, low prairie swell--rises before me. I don't try for details, I don't even trace an outline, but just throw in an effect here and there, and by good luck it often comes right, in some fine harmony of color, that's sure to warm up my heart and cheer my spirits; for, as there are sounds that, swelling up, fill the whole nature of man with ecstasy, there are combinations of color and tint that enter the brain by the eye, and just produce the same sense of delight.'"

"And how did he accept your consolation?" asked she, smiling good-naturedly.

"I don't well know if he listened to me," said Simmy, sorrowfully; "for all he said afterwards was,--

"'Well, Mr. Crow, good-bye. I hope you 'll come to see me when you visit Dublin. You 'll easily find out my chambers in the college.'

"Of course I said, 'I'd be delighted;' and there we parted."

"Poor fellow!" said Kate, but in an accent so peculiar it would have been very difficult to p.r.o.nounce whether the words were of kindness or of disparagement.

"And your Prince, Mr. Crow?" said she, changing her tone to one of real or affected interest; "what's to be done now that Mr. Nelligan has left us?"

"I'm thinking of making a background figure of him, miss," said Simmy.

"Burnt sienna reduces many an ill.u.s.trious individual to an obscure position."

"But why not ask Mr. Ma.s.singbred to take his place--you've seen him?"

"Only pa.s.sing the window, miss. He is a handsome young man, but that same look of fashion, the dash of style about him, is exactly what destroys the face for _me_, I feel I could make nothing of it; I 'd be always thinking of him standing inside the plate-gla.s.s window of a London club, or cantering along the alleys of the Park, or sipping his iced lemonade at Tortoni's. There's no poetizing your man of gold chains and embroidered waistcoats!"

"I half suspect you are unjust in this case," said she, with one of her dubious smiles.

"I'm only saying what the effect is upon myself, miss," said Crow.

"But why not make a compromise between the two?" said she. "I believe the great painters--Vand.y.k.e, certainly--rarely took the studies from a single head. They caught a brow here, and a mouth there, harmonizing the details by the suggestions of their own genius. Now, what if, preserving all this here,"--and she pointed to the head and eyes,--"you were to fill up the remainder, partly from imagination, partly from a study."

And as she spoke she took the brush from his hand, and by a few light and careless touches imparted a new character to the face.

"Oh, go on! that's admirable,--that's glorious!" exclaimed Crow, wild with delight.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 276]

"There is no necessity to lose the expression of haughty sorrow in the eye and brow," continued she; "nor does it interfere with the pa.s.sing emotion he may be supposed unable to control, of proud contempt for that priestly influence which has dominated over the ambition of a king."

And now, as though carried away by the theme, she continued to paint as rapidly as she spoke, while Crow busied himself in preparing the colors upon the palette.

"My hardihood is only intended to encourage you, Mr. Crow," said she, "by showing that if one like me can point the road, the journey need not be deemed a difficult one." As she retired some paces to contemplate the picture, she casually glanced through a low gla.s.s door which opened upon the lawn, and where, under the shelter of a leafy beech, a young country girl was standing; her blue cloth cloak, with the hood thrown over her head, gave a certain picturesque character to the figure, which nearer inspection more than confirmed, for her features were singularly fine, and her large, soft blue eyes beamed with a gentle earnestness that showed Kate she was there with a purpose.

Opening the door at once, Kate Henderson approached her, and asked what she wanted.

With an air of half pride, half shame, the country girl drew herself up, and stared full and steadfastly at the speaker, and so continued till Kate repeated her question.

"Sure you're not Miss Mary?" replied she, by questioning her in turn.

"No, but if I can be of any use to you--"

"I don't think you can," broke she in, with a manner almost haughty; "it's somebody else I 'm wanting."

"If you wish to see Miss Martin, I 'll go and fetch her," said Kate.

"I did n't say it was her I wanted to see," replied she, with a calm and almost severe composure.

"Maybe her Ladyship?" asked Kate, far more interested than repelled by the other's manner.

"It's none of them at all," rejoined she. "I came here to speak to one that I know myself," added she, after a long pause; "and if he isn't gone, I want to see him."

"Oh, I think I can guess now," said Kate, smiling. "It is the Counsellor from Dublin, Mr. Repton."

"It is no such thing," said the girl, promptly.

"Then it must be Mr. Crow, here."

An indignant toss of the head gave the negative to this surmise.

"I have gone through all our names here," said Kate; "and except Mr.

Ma.s.singbred--"

"And there's the very one I want," said the girl, boldly.

"Step in here and rest yourself, and I 'll send for him," said Kate; and with such persuasive courtesy were the words uttered, that almost, as it seemed, against her very will the girl followed her into the studio and sat down. While Mr. Crow proceeded in search of Ma.s.singbred, Kate Henderson, resuming brush and palette, returned to her painting; not, however, on the grand canvas of the "Historical," but dexterously interposing a piece of fresh board, she seized the opportunity to sketch the beautiful head then before her, while occupying the girl's attention with the objects around.

Notwithstanding her intense astonishment at all she saw, the country girl never uttered a word, nor vouchsafed a single question as to the paintings; she even tried to moderate the eager pleasure they afforded by an endeavor not to admire them. Touched by the native pride of this struggle,--for struggle it was,--the features had a.s.sumed a look of haughty composure that well became the character of her beauty, and Kate caught up the expression so rapidly that her sketch was already well-nigh completed when Ma.s.sing-bred entered.