Dr. Heriot beckoned Mildred to come nearer, and she had ample leisure to admire the warm sunshiny tints of a small landscape, to which he was putting finishing touches, until the melodious whistling ceased, and an exclamation of delight from Polly made him turn round. 'Aunt Milly, this is too bad; you have stolen a march on me;' and Roy's fair face was suffused for a moment. 'I owe Dr. John a grudge for this,' threatening him with his palette and brush. Polly could not resist the pleasure of showing her aunt the mysteries of Bluebeard's den. 'When you miss your boy, you will know where to find him in future, Miss Lambert.' 'Roy, dear, you must not be vexed. I had no idea Polly's secret had anything to do with you,' said Mildred, gently. 'Dr. Heriot is very good to allow you to make use of this pleasant studio.' Roy's brow cleared like magic. 'I am glad you think so. I was only afraid you would talk nonsense, as Livy does, about waste of time, and hiding talents under a bushel. Holloa, Livy, I did not know you were there; no offence intended; but you do talk an awful quantity of rubbish sometimes.' 'I only said it was a pity you did not tell papa about it; your being an artist, I mean,' answered Olive, mildly; but Roy interrupted her impatiently. 'You know I cannot bear disappointing him, but of course it has to be told. Aunt Milly, do you think my father would ask Dad Fabian down to see Polly? I should so like to have a talk with him. You see, Dr. John is only an amateur; he cannot tell me if I am ever likely to be an artist,' finished Roy, a little despondingly. 'I am not much of a critic, but I like your picture, Roy; it looks so fresh and sunny. I could almost feel as though I were sitting down on that mossy bank; and that little girl in her red cloak is charming.' Roy coloured bashfully over the praise. 'I tell him that with his few advantages he does wonders; he has only picked up desultory lessons here and there,' observed Dr. Heriot. 'That old fellow at Sedbergh taught me to grind colours, and I fell in with an artist at York once. I don't mind you knowing a bit, Aunt Milly; only'--lowering his voice so as not to be heard by the others--'I want to get an opinion worth having, and be sure I am not only the dabbler Dick thinks me, before I bother the Padre about it; but I shall do no good at anything else, let Dick say what he will;' a touch of defiance and hopelessness in his voice, very different from his ordinary saucy manners. Evidently Roy was in earnest for once in his life. 'You are quite right, Roy; it is the most beautiful life in the world,' broke in Polly, enthusiastically. 'It is nobler to try at that and fail, than to be the most successful lawyer in the world.' 'The gentlemen of the robe would thank you, Polly. Do you know, I have a great respect for a learned barrister.' 'All that Polly knows about them is, they wear a wig and carry a blue bag,' observed Roy, with one of his odd chuckles.