"I have felt it," was my involuntary reply. "Well, why not?" I added, reddening beneath his look, "do you think that because I am a girl, I have had no ambition, no dreams of my own, no longing for a little bit of the heroic? We all have, Cornelius, only we don't confess it, for fear of being laughed at." He looked attentively at me and smiled. "What were your dreams about, Daisy?" "Not worth your losing time in listening to them, Cornelius--time, that leads to fame!" The smile vanished from his face. "Not for me," he replied, with a clouded brow. "Why not?" "Because I have no genius." "No genius?" "No," he said impatiently, "not a bit." "Do you mean to say, Cornelius, that you will never be one of the celebrated artists of whom I have read so much?" "Never!" he replied, with a dreary seriousness that proved him, for the moment at least, to be quite in earnest. "Cornelius," I said, decisively, "I am not going to put up with that, you know; fame is not a thing to be laid aside in that fashion." "Fame! what is fame?" "A poor aim, but a glorious reward." "Empty, Daisy, empty. I do not care one pin for fame." "Sour grapes," was the prompt reply which escaped me. "Thank you, Daisy," he answered, reddening. I felt rather disturbed. He resumed: "Sour grapes! The illustration is kind and civil. Sour grapes!" "They must be very sour," I ventured to observe, in a low tone, "for you seem unable to digest them, Cornelius." "I beg your pardon," he said, very gravely, "I do not care for celebrity, and do not want to be famous." "But I do," I warmly answered, "you were asking a while ago about my day- dreams: I will tell you one, a favourite one, of which the fulfilment lies with you:--I am out somewhere; for of course we shall not always live in this quiet way, and I overhear Mrs. H-- asking Mrs. G--, in an audible whisper: 'Who is that commonplace-looking girl in white?' 'Something or other to the celebrated artist, Cornelius O'Reilly.' Mrs. H-- looks at me with sudden veneration, whilst I give her a compassionate glance, implying 'Who ever heard of Mr. H--?'" "You saucy girl," said Cornelius, passing his arm around me, but looking down at me, with anything but a displeased face. "I am not saucy; I am very humble. I am proud by temper, and yet I cannot fancy that if I were to go and earn my bread, it would have a sweeter taste than that you have earned for me so long. I am ambitious, and instead of winning fame for myself, here am I suing you to do it for me!" "And shall it not be won for you?" he asked, fondly smoothing my hair, "that and anything else you wish for, my darling." "Then, don't you see," I replied, triumphantly, "that you have got genius?" "Oh! Daisy," he said sorrowfully, "what brought up that unlucky word? Look at that figure, cold, lifeless thing, it tells its own story."