“But why not make a compromise between the two?” said she. “I believe the great painters--Vandyke, certainly--rarely took the studies from a single head. They caught a brow here, and a mouth there, harmonizing the details by the suggestions of their own genius. Now, what if, preserving all this here,”--and she pointed to the head and eyes,--“you were to fill up the remainder, partly from imagination, partly from a study.” And as she spoke she took the brush from his hand, and by a few light and careless touches imparted a new character to the face. “Oh, go on! that's admirable,--that's glorious!” exclaimed Crow, wild with delight. [Illustration: 276] “There is no necessity to lose the expression of haughty sorrow in the eye and brow,” continued she; “nor does it interfere with the passing emotion he may be supposed unable to control, of proud contempt for that priestly influence which has dominated over the ambition of a king.” And now, as though carried away by the theme, she continued to paint as rapidly as she spoke, while Crow busied himself in preparing the colors upon the palette. “My hardihood is only intended to encourage you, Mr. Crow,” said she, “by showing that if one like me can point the road, the journey need not be deemed a difficult one.” As she retired some paces to contemplate the picture, she casually glanced through a low glass door which opened upon the lawn, and where, under the shelter of a leafy beech, a young country girl was standing; her blue cloth cloak, with the hood thrown over her head, gave a certain picturesque character to the figure, which nearer inspection more than confirmed, for her features were singularly fine, and her large, soft blue eyes beamed with a gentle earnestness that showed Kate she was there with a purpose. Opening the door at once, Kate Henderson approached her, and asked what she wanted. With an air of half pride, half shame, the country girl drew herself up, and stared full and steadfastly at the speaker, and so continued till Kate repeated her question. “Sure you're not Miss Mary?” replied she, by questioning her in turn. “No, but if I can be of any use to you--” “I don't think you can,” broke she in, with a manner almost haughty; “it's somebody else I 'm wanting.” “If you wish to see Miss Martin, I 'll go and fetch her,” said Kate. “I did n't say it was her I wanted to see,” replied she, with a calm and almost severe composure. “Maybe her Ladyship?” asked Kate, far more interested than repelled by the other's manner. “It's none of them at all,” rejoined she. “I came here to speak to one that I know myself,” added she, after a long pause; “and if he isn't gone, I want to see him.” “Oh, I think I can guess now,” said Kate, smiling. “It is the Counsellor from Dublin, Mr. Repton.” “It is no such thing,” said the girl, promptly. “Then it must be Mr. Crow, here.” An indignant toss of the head gave the negative to this surmise.