"If they think they'll prevent me from painting pictures, they'll find themselves wonderfully deceived!" I am not sure that "they" meant the Hanging Committee; I rather think it represented that vague enemy at whom disappointed ambition grasps so tenaciously. Whatever it signified, Cornelius kept his word: he painted, and harder than ever; but fortune was ungracious. Two charming cottage scenes which he sent in on the following year were accepted, it is true, but did little or nothing for his fame. One critic said "they were really very nicely painted;" another "advised Mr. O'Reilly not to be quite so slovenly;" a third found out that as in one of the cottages there was a fiddle, it was a gross plagiarism of Wilkie's "Blind Fiddler," artfully disguised indeed by the fiddle not being played upon, and of course none of the characters listening to its music, but not the less evident to lynx-eyed criticism; a fourth declared that Mr. O'Reilly was a promising young artist, who, in a dozen years or so, could not fail to hold a very respectable place in Art; and a fifth--one of those venal characters who disgrace every profession--sent in his card and terms. Kate wanted her brother to give him a cutting reply; he said there was nothing more cutting than silence, and lit his cigar with Mr. --'s edifying letter.* [* A fact.] "He does not complain," said Kate to me, "but I can see in his face there's something brewing." I thought so too, and resolved to find it out. It was some time before I succeeded; but I did succeed, and one day, when Kate said with a sigh-- "I wish I knew what's the matter with that boy!" I composedly replied-- "Cornelius wants to go to Rome." "Nonsense!" she said, jumping in her chair, "what has put that into your head? Did he tell you?" "No; but I am sure of it." I spoke confidently; she affected to doubt me; but the same evening proved the truth of my conjecture. It was not in Miss O'Reilly's nature to turn round a thing, so, as we were all throe walking in the garden, enjoying the cool [air], she suddenly confronted her brother, and said bluntly-- "Cornelius, is it true that you want to go to Rome?" He reddened, looked astonished, and never answered. "Then it is true," she exclaimed with a sigh.