“I know too well the style of assistance I may expect from you in such matters. Who embellished my poor head of Minerva with a pair of _moustaches?_” “I did,” rejoined Leicester complacently, “and I am proud of it. Minerva was the goddess of war, and sported _moustaches_ in virtue of her profession.” “Are you never going to give me the drawing, Charles?” asked Annie impatiently. “Positively, cousins are most uncourteous beings. Mr. Arundel, might I trouble you to hand me that sketch?” Thus appealed to, Lewis had nothing for it but to comply, which he did accordingly, biting his lip with vexation at the _dénouement_ which now appeared inevitable. But Leicester’s resources were not yet exhausted; stretching out his hand before his cousin had received the drawing, he coolly took possession of it, saying, “I know you meant this drawing as a little surprise for me. You have heard me say how much I coveted a sketch of dear old Broadhurst, and so you have kindly made one for me. You have really done it extremely well! Who was it--Fielding--you have been learning of? Positively, you have caught his style!” “Don’t flatter yourself that I did you the honour of recollecting any such wish, even supposing you really uttered it in my hearing, of which I entertain grave doubts,” returned Annie; “but if you particularly desire it I will make you a present of it when it is finished--if I could only manage that tiresome foreground!” “I like it better without,” was the reply. “There’s nothing to interfere with the outline of the building, which stands forth in bold relief--and--eh!--well, what’s the matter?” During his speech his cousin had risen from her seat, and approaching him, caught sight of the drawing, which she had no sooner done than, raising a little white hand, she pointed to the intrusive cow and asked quietly, “Where did that come from?” The comic perplexity of Leicester’s face was irresistible to behold, as, with a glance at Lewis to secure his sympathy and co-operation, he was evidently about to adopt the cow at all hazards, when the door opened, and a tall, stately old man, with a military port and erect bearing, entered, and surveying the group with evident surprise, drew himself up still more stiffly, ere, with slow and measured steps, he advanced towards them. _It was General Grant!_ CHAPTER VII.--WHEREIN THE READER IS INTRODUCED TO MISS LIVINGSTONE, AND INFORMED WHO IS THE GREATEST MAN OF THE AGE. “Ah! General,” exclaimed Leicester, as he rose leisurely from the arm-chair in which he had been reclining, “I hope they have not disturbed you on our account. I was criticising one of Annie’s sketches _pour passer le temps_--really she draws very nicely. Let me introduce Mr. Arundel, Mr. Frere’s friend, about whom I wrote to you yesterday.” A stiff bow, acknowledged on Lewis’s part by an equally haughty inclination of the head, was the result of this introduction, when General Grant observed--