It was plain she would not take a step to save the drawings. I sat down in the darkest corner of the room and grieved silently over this miserable end to so many bright day-dreams. It was a long time before Cornelius came down; he apologized for having delayed the tea. "Never mind!" said Kate, sighing. "Daisy, where are you? That child does nothing but mope and fret of late." "I am here, Kate," I replied, rising. "Hand Cornelius his cup." "What is the matter with her?" he asked. "She is a foolish child," replied Miss O'Reilly. As I handed his cup to Cornelius, I saw his sister give him a look of gentle pity. He smiled cheerfully; she sighed; he kindly asked what was the matter. "There are hard things to be gone through," was her ambiguous reply. "Why, yes, Kate, there are." "They require a brave spirit," she continued. He looked puzzled. "But it is quite right to cut the matter short." "Kate, what has happened?" "Well, it is not an event; but I admire your courage." "My courage! in what?" "Why, in burning your drawings, of course." He bit his lip, reddened, and said gravely-- "I have not been burning them, Kate." "Not burning them!" she exclaimed, with a sharp look at me. "Daisy is not to blame," quickly observed Cornelius. "Not burning them!" resumed Miss O'Reilly; "and I who kept tea waiting until it was spoiled in order not to disturb you!" "Thank you all the same, Kate." "Not burning them!" she said, giving him a very suspicious look, "and what were you doing up there. Cornelius?" "Finishing a little thing which I will show you to-morrow." "He's going to flirt with painting again!" desperately said Miss O'Reilly, rocking herself to and fro. "I hope to go beyond flirtation, Kate." "My poor boy, don't trust her,--she is a heartless coquette." "No, Kate, she is merely coy,--a charming feminine defect that only makes her more irresistibly alluring." "You have tried her once." "And failed; I must try again: faint heart never won fair lady." He spoke so gaily, he looked once more so happy, so confident, that the cloud left his sister's handsome face. She checked a sigh, to say with a smile-- "I was a fool to trust to the vows of a man in love; that is all." "Yes," he said, resolutely, "I know I vowed to give her up a few weeks ago; but now, Kate, I vow I cannot--I cannot; no man can divide himself from his nature." "What will you do?" she asked. "Anything, Kate," he replied, his eyes kindling with hope and ardour; "no drudgery will seem drudgery, no work too hard." I could keep in no longer. At the imminent risk of upsetting his cup, I threw my arms around the neck of Cornelius, and, crying for joy, I exclaimed-- "Oh! I am so glad that you are to be a great artist after all--and that you did not burn the Italian boy nor the poor flower-girl!" "Am I an inquisitor?" asked Cornelius, smiling. "She is as mad as he is," said Kate, shaking her head; "indeed I rather think she is worse."