"Quite," was her prompt reply. Mr. Trim was so happy to hear it that he forgot to release her hand, until that of Cornelius, laid on his shoulder, made him turn round. Mr. Trim's eyes seemed to overflow with emotion. "God bless you, my dear fellow, God bless you!" he said, shaking both the hands of his friend up and down several times with great fervour, "it does me good to see you; I wanted Smalley to come, and thought it would do him good too, but he declined. He returns your Byron with thanks and his love, and hopes Byron was a Christian, but he would not come. Ah! my dear fellow, clergymen are men." "What else did you think they were?" shortly asked Kate--"birds?" Mr. Trim's fancy was much tickled at the idea. He shut his little eyes and laughed immoderately. When he recovered, he went up to Miriam, who sat indifferent and calm, like one taking no share in what was passing. Mr. Trim hoped she was quite well; she replied quite, with the most scornful civility. He hoped she had been quite well since he last saw her. She had been quite well. He hoped she would continue to be quite well. She hoped so too, and took up a book. Undeterred by this, Mr. Trim drew a chair near the angle of the sofa in which she sat, and spite of her astonished look, there he remained. Cornelius had resumed his place between Miriam and me, and I had the honour of next attracting Mr. Trim's attention. "I am quite well now," I replied, in answer to his inquiries, "but I have had the small-pox." "Had the small-pox, eh? Let me see; I am half blind, you know." He raised the lamp, surveyed me through his half-shut eyes, then said admiringly-- "A very fair escape. Don't you think the little thing's complexion is improved, Ma'am?" He addressed Miriam, who acquiesced by a silent bend of her queen-like head. "Altogether," continued Mr. Trim, "she looks better. Now do you know, Ma'am, that at sixteen Daisy will be quite a pretty girl." Miriam smiled ironically. Cornelius looked at me, and complacently observed-- "Three years may make a great difference." "Is Daisy thirteen?" suddenly asked Miriam. "Not yet; her birthday is in May." "You told Dr. Mixton she was ten." "Twelve, Miriam; she was ten when I brought her home." She did not reply. "How goes on the Happy Time?" asked Mr. Trim, bending forward with his hands on his knees. "It is finished, and I am engaged on another picture." Mr. Trim shut his eyes and nodded to Miriam, as much as to say, "I know all about it;" then asked how she liked sitting. "I do not sit to Mr. O'Reilly," she replied in a tone of ice. "Now, Ma'am, I call that cruel, to deprive our friend--" "Mr. O'Reilly has never asked me to sit to him." "But you know I mean to do so when I have finished my Stolen Child," said Cornelius, whose look vainly sought hers.