"A pretty little effect, so," he added, "especially with your startled look, reminding one of Cervantes' Dorothea." "So she does!" said Miss O'Reilly, coming up from behind. She kissed her brother, and looking at me as I rose to do up my hair, "It is like her father's," she added with a subdued sigh, "but not quite so bright." "Why did you never write to me that Daisy was so much improved?" asked Cornelius, perhaps to divert her thoughts. "Because I knew you had eyes of your own to find it out," answered his sister smiling. "And now don't sit looking at the girl, as if she were a beauty; she has grown tall and has good health, that is all." "All! is not that a great deal?" "Of course it is; but I came to tell you breakfast is waiting, and not to talk about Daisy's looks." We went in to breakfast; I sat opposite Cornelius and could scarcely take my eyes off his face; he could not help smiling now and then, but Miss O'Reilly chose to be in a pet about it. "Don't be foolish, Midge! I wish, Cornelius, you would mind what I say, instead of paying so much attention to that silly girl. When do you mean to have that case opened?" "In a day or two." "Nonsense! you don't think I am going to wait a day or two to see your pictures? After breakfast you mean?" She carried the point as usual, and after breakfast it accordingly was. As Cornelius drew back the last covering which stood between us and his picture, I felt my heart beat with expectation; as for Kate, from the moment it became visible, she was lost in wonder and admiration. The picture, though not very large, was an elaborate historical performance; it represented the death of Mary Stuart, with mourning ladies-in-waiting, knights, pages, executioner and all. "How beautiful, how very beautiful!" exclaimed Kate with tears in her eyes; "what a subject, and how you treated it! But what a pity, what a mortal pity it was not finished in time for the academy, Cornelius!" There was a pause, he stooped and brushed away some dust from Mary Stuart's face, but never answered. His sister resumed-- "Who is that dark-looking fellow in front?" "The Earl of Salisbury." "Ah! I remember, I knew he could not be good; it is in his face, I assure you. And who is that girl in the corner?" "A looker-on." "I knew it!" triumphantly exclaimed Miss O'Reilly, "I knew it by her unconcerned air. Cornelius, there is wonderful character in it all." He did not reply: he was untying the strings of a large portfolio, and looking over the sketches and drawings it contained. His sister called him to her side with an air of concern. "Was he sure Mary Stuart had a velvet robe on? She hoped it was not a mistake. Critics are such harpies, you know," she added with a sigh, "they would pounce on a mistake directly." He laid his hand on her shoulder, and, with a kind smile, looked down at her upraised face.