"What a shame!" I exclaimed, with a degree of indignation that amused Cornelius; but for all that he shut up the sketch-book, which was no more opened that day. Our walk over, we came home; the evening, warm and summer-like, was pleasantly spent in the garden. Early on the following morning Cornelius went out to look for the promised work. The first thing he did on coming home was to read the letter that lay waiting for him on the breakfast-table; when that was done he condescended to sit down and eat. Kate asked if he had succeeded in accomplishing his errand. "No, indeed," he replied, with evident irritation. "Mr. Redmond was not even at home. I shall have the pleasure of another journey. Oh! Kate, I am sick of it!" He sighed profoundly, then took up his letter, and went upstairs. "Yes, yes, go and write," muttered Kate as the door closed upon him, "lose your time, waste your days, that is just what she wants. Midge, will you never leave off that habit of looking and listening? go upstairs, only do not talk to Cornelius whilst he is writing, or he will fly out: I warn you." I obeyed. I went up to the studio, entered softly, and closed the door very gently: yet Cornelius heard me, for he looked up at once from his writing. "My dear," he said, "there will be neither painting nor drawing to-day." "Am I in the way, Cornelius?" "No, but you will have to stay quiet, and when I have done writing I shall go to town again." I accepted the conditions, and obeyed them so scrupulously that I did not once open my lips until Cornelius, turning round and looking at me as I lay on the couch, asked if I did not feel tired. I replied, I did not mind, and was his letter finished? "I have only a few lines more to add," he answered. The few lines must have been pages, they took so long to indite. The little studio was burning hot; Cornelius was too much absorbed to be conscious of this, but I felt faint and drowsy. I drew myself up on the couch, laid my head on the cushion, looked at him as he bent with unwearied ardour over his desk, then closed my eyes and fell asleep to the sound of his pen still zealously running along the paper. I know not how long I slept; I was partly awakened by a sound of whispering voices. "The dinner will be ruined," said Kate. "What is a dinner in comparison with a drawing?" "I don't know--and don't care; a cook has no feelings." "Another hour." "Do you want to make yourself and the child ill?" "I never know what hunger is whilst I am at work; and how can Daisy feel the fasting whilst she sleeps? As soon as she wakens, I leave off." "Leave off now and finish to-morrow." "Oh, Kate! is it possible you do not see how very charming that attitude is? I should never have hit on anything half so graceful or so picturesque. The least movement on her part might spoil it." "I fancy I saw her stir."