His old affection seemed to have returned in all its warmth; his look had the old meaning, his voice the old familiar accent, his manner more than the old tenderness. When I saw myself again so near him, again petted, caressed, loved, how could I but forget Miriam, the past and the future, to yield to the irresistible charm of the moment? Oh! why was he so imprudently kind? Why, when I was growing almost accustomed to his indifference, almost resigned, did he unconsciously destroy the slow labour of weeks, and sow for us both the seed of future torment? But I thought not of that then, nor did he. If I was glad to be once more near him, I saw in his face--and it was that undid me--that he was glad to have back again the child of whom he had for more than two years been so fond. He caressed me as after a long separation, and smoothing my hair, asked the question he had often put to me during my lingering illness-- "What shall we talk about?" "The Gallery," was my prompt reply. "Will you never tire of it, my darling?" "Never, Cornelius." "Well, I have been making an addition to it lately: a Gipsy couple in a green lane--the husband lying idly on the grass--his dark-eyed wife cooking." "And the child?" "There is none; for I speak of a real Gipsy couple who are to come to sit to me to-morrow, but who have no child." "Could not I do, Cornelius?" "Do you, with your fair hair, look like a little Gipsy?" "I might be a stolen child, Cornelius." "So you might!" cried Cornelius, his whole face lighting up at the idea; "why, it is an excellent, an admirable subject! What a tender and pathetic contrast!--they the type of rude animal enjoyment and power, you, like divine Una among the Satyrs, a meek and intellectual captive. A sketch! I shall make a picture of it--a fine picture--a great picture, please God." He rose, and walked about the room quite excited; his eyes had kindled and burned with inward light; his face glowed with triumph. Once he paused, and with his fore-finger rapidly traced on the air lines which had already struck his fancy for the arrangement of the group; then he came back to me and gravely said-- "I see it, Daisy; it is painted, finished, and hung in the great room; in the meanwhile let us discuss the particulars." We discussed them, or rather Cornelius spoke, and I approved unconditionally every word he uttered, until, to our common astonishment, the clock struck eleven. As he bade me good-night, Cornelius laid his hand on my head, and said, admiringly-- "You clever little thing to have thought of it! no wonder I am fond of you; but do you know you will have to dress in rags, like a poor little drudge?" "As if I minded it, Cornelius!" I quickly replied. He smiled and kissed me very kindly. I went up to my room, to be as restless and wakeful with joy as I had not so long ago been with bitter grief.