"Yes, papa, quite, for to-day," said the lady addressed, opening her purse and taking out half-a-crown, the sight of which made the model's eyes open a little wider as it was held out to him, while an unpleasant animal look was darted at Glynne as she spoke. "That will do for to day. I will send word by the policeman when I want you again." "Thankye kindly, my lady," said the young man, wincing at the name of the messenger; and he now touched his hat to Sir John humbly, and then to his brother. "You're back again, then, Caleb Kent," growled Sir John. "Yes, sir, I've come back," whined the man. "Then, just see if you can't lead a decent life, sir, for I warn you, that if you are brought up again for poaching, it will go pretty hard with you." "Yes, sir; I know, sir, but I'm going to reform, sir, and turn keeper, and--" "That'll do. Be off. Let's have deeds, not words." "Yes, sir, I will, sir. I'm a-goin' to try, sir." "I said that will do." "Yes, sir," said the man, humbly; and, touching his cap all round, he slouched off, with an ill-used look, and gave two or three loud sniffs. "Oh, papa, dear," cried Glynne, "how can you speak so harshly to the poor fellow. He did wrong once, and he has been punished." "Did wrong once. Bah! He did wrong in being born, and has done wrong ever since. The fellow's a regular gaol-bird, and I don't like to see him near you. For goodness' sake, my dear, if you must paint, paint something decent, not a scoundrel like that." "Your father's quite right, my dear," said the major, grimly. "That's not the sort of fellow to paint. Whitewashing is what he wants." Sir John chuckled, and his child looked at him, wonderingly. "But he is so picturesque, papa, dear, and when I get the canvas finished--" "Oh, you don't want to finish canvases, pet. Let that go. Plenty else to think of now, eh, Miss Alleyne? Why, my dear, you have a colour like a peach." "Have I, Sir John?" said the girl, demurely. "How shockingly vulgar! Then I must wear a veil." "For goodness' sake, don't, my dear child," cried the baronet, hastily. "Pray, don't insult poor nature by refusing to look healthy and well." "I join in my brother's prayer," said the major, as he shook hands in a quiet, old-fashioned, chivalrous way. "And so do I," said Glynne, smiling in a calm, strangely placid manner. "Do you know, Lucy, I've been enjoying your colour as I painted." "James, old fellow," said the baronet, laughing, "let's be in the fashion. How handsome you do look this morning. How your hair curls." "Uncle always looks handsome," said Glynne, seriously, and she sent a thrill of pleasure through the old man, by quietly taking his arm and leaning towards him in a gentle, affectionate way. "And I'm nobody, Miss Alleyne," said Sir John with mock annoyance. "You would not think so, if you heard all that Glynne says about you when we are alone, Sir John."