"Miss Russell heard you." "She cannot have heard me," I replied, indignantly; "I don't know why you will not believe me as well as her." Cornelius gave me a severe look. "You were not accused," he said, "and need not have justified yourself in that tone." Kate gave us a quick glance, and said abruptly-- "I am astonished at Deborah; you might have wanted to go out." "I did go out," replied Cornelius, "thinking she was in; but I only stayed out a few minutes." "Did Daisy remain alone?" "I suppose so, for as I went out by the back door, Miriam left by the front; but the neighbourhood is safe, and Daisy is surely not so silly as to be afraid." "She looks very pale," observed Kate: "what have you been doing to her?" "What has she been doing to me?" he coldly answered. Kate sighed, and laying her hand on my shoulder, she looked down at me compassionately. "Go to bed, child," she said kindly. I did not ask better. She kissed me, and again said I was very pale; her brother never raised his eyes from his book. I thought him unkind and myself ill-used. I was proud, even with him; I left the room without bidding him good-night, and went to bed without seeking a reconciliation. I awoke the next morning in a miserable, unhappy mood. Kate noticed my downcast looks and sullen replies at breakfast, and said, rather sharply-- "I should like to know what is the matter with you, child." I did not answer, but looked sulkily down at my cup; when I chanced to raise my eyes, they met the gaze of Cornelius fastened intently on my face. I felt my colour come and go. With a sense of pain I averted my look from his. Immediately after breakfast, and without asking me to accompany him, he went up to his studio; he had not been there long, and I was still listening to the lecture of Kate, who reproved me for being so ill-tempered, when we heard the voice of her brother, calling out from above in a tone that sounded strange-- "Daisy!" I obeyed the summons. Cornelius stood on the landing waiting for me. He made me enter the studio, then followed me in and closed the door. I looked at him and stood still; his brow was pale and contracted; his brown eyes, so pleasant and good-humoured, burned with a lurid light; his lips were white and thin, and quivered slightly. Never had I seen him so. He took me by the hand--he led me to his easel. "Look!" he said, in a low tone. But I could not take my eyes from his face. "Look!" he said again. I obeyed mechanically, and started back with dismay. Where the fair, intent face of Medora had once looked towards the blue horizon, now appeared an unsightly blotch. I looked incredulously at first; at length I said-- "How did it happen, Cornelius?" "You mean, who did it?" he replied. "Did any one do it, then?" I asked, looking up in his face. He folded his arms across his breast, and looked down at me. "You ask if any one did it!" he exclaimed.