_Bartlett_, forcing an imbecile smile.--"Nothing, I was just thinking--I should--like to venture to make a remark." _Constance._--"You _know_ I wish you to speak to me about everything." _Bartlett._--"Did you mean that lady to be in the middle distance?" _Constance._--"Yes." _Bartlett._--"Well, there is a slight, a very slight, error in the perspective. She is as tall as Ponkwasset, you see, and could touch the top of it with the point of her parasol." _Constance_, dejectedly.--"I see. I can never do it." _Bartlett._--"Oh, yes, you can, Miss Wyatt; you mustn't lose patience with me." _Constance._--"It's you who won't be able to keep your patience with my stupidity." _Bartlett._--"That's not the name for it. I shall think more of your failures than of anybody's successes--that _is_--I mean--if you don't let this thing be a pain instead of a pleasure to you. Remember, I hoped it would amuse you." _Constance._--"Oh, yes. You have been only too kind, in that and everything." _Bartlett._--"Well, now, let us begin again. This lady is very well as a lady; you understand the figure better than perspective; but she's out of place here, a little; and a flower out of place, you know, is a weed. Suppose we"--he takes up the charcoal, and makes a few dashes at the canvas--"treat her as a clump of tall birch-trees,--that clump over there in the edge of the meadow; that will bring her into the foreground, and entitle her to be three inches high; we can't really allow her more, even as a clump of birches. Eh?" _Constance._--"Oh, yes; that's better, decidedly." Smiling: "Being under instruction, this way, makes me think of my school-days." _Bartlett_, impressively.--"I hope they were happy days." _Constance._--"Oh, the happiest of my life." _Bartlett._--"I am _so_ glad." Constance stares at him in surprise, but finally says nothing. "I mean since this is like them." _Constance_, pensively.--"Yes, it's pleasant to go back to that time." With more animation: "Papa, I wonder if you remember Madame Le May, who used to teach me French when you came home after the war?" _General Wyatt_, behind his newspaper.--"Eh? What? What's that? Some difficulty in the drawing? You must both have patience,--patience"-- _Constance._--"Why, papa! Oh, well, I won't worry him. I suppose he's found something about cutting down the army appropriations; that always absorbs him. What shall I try next, Mr. Bartlett?" _Bartlett._--"You can rub in your middle distance." _Constance_, laughing.--"I'll try. But I think I should be at my best beyond the vanishing point." _Bartlett._--"Oh, I don't believe _that_! Perhaps it annoys you to have me looking over your shoulder while you work?" _Constance._--"No. Oh, no." _Bartlett._--"I see that it does." _Constance._--"It makes me a little nervous. I'm afraid of you, you know." _Bartlett._--"I didn't know I was so terrible. How far off shall I go, to be agreeable?" _Constance_, laughing.--"Across the room."